How I Met Your Mother
by Vanille Strawberry
Summary: Elsa cleared her throat and let her clasped hands rest on the wooden table. It was the same pose she adopted in her trade meetings and it made Anna hold in a snort. Their six year old made the Queen of Arendelle, mistress of snow and ice, nervous. It was almost laughable. Elsanna, AU. Not incest.
1. Astrid's Fairytale

A/N: Here's an AU Elsana fic.

Disclaimer: As if I'd be writing fiction if I owned Frozen.

* * *

How I Met Your Mother

* * *

Chapter I

Astrid's Fairytale

* * *

The young foal hobbled on uncertain limbs, his coat still shiny with blood and water as his tired dam got to her own shaky legs, snorting decisively. It had been a long and arduous birth for the pair. The stable master beamed proudly at their newest addition and glanced at the queen and the tiny princess to judge their reaction at seeing new life brought forth in the world.

His queen didn't disappoint. Her wide beaming smile said more than words ever could. She'd grown up in the Winterlands – a country known for only two things; ice and horses. The princess, likewise, looked as entranced as her mother. Her eyes were glazed over in wonder and the giddy grin on her face only grew in size and width when the foal made a little keening noise. She grasped her mother's skirts and gave a tug of excitement.

Queen Anna laughed heartily at her daughter's reaction.

"He's looking for milk isn't he, Momma?" the small girl whispered up at her.

"That's right, Astrid. He's looking for his mother's milk," Anna replied patiently, letting a hand thread in her daughter's unruly blonde hair.

Astrid grinned up at her mother at the validation that she'd been right. Her gap-toothed smile set the groomsmen off in hearty chuckles and Anna felt a hot flash of pride well up.

"We'll get dam and colt settled for the night, Your Majesty," said the stable master kindly. "You can both retire to bed. It's been a long night for you both."

"Thank you for everything, Jasper. He looks magnificent." She nodded to the colt now suckling at his mother's teat.

"Thank Her Majesty Queen Elsa," Jasper said, waving the praise away. "She's the one who somehow got the King of Glimmerton's favourite stud to Arrendelle."

"Still don't know how she managed that one," Anna laughed.

"Momma, what's a stud?" Astrid yawned up at her. Anna could see her daughter was minutes away from sleep. Her thumb had migrated to her mouth and she was sucking on it lazily, eyes drooping with fatigue.

"It's a daddy horse, sweetheart."

"Oh."

Taking this as her cue to bend down and sweep Astrid into her arms, Anna did just so. She thanked the men once more for all their work and kindness and carried Astrid out of the stables and back towards the castle. Kai let her in through the kitchens, tutting reproachfully when he noticed the six year old asleep in her embrace.

"She wanted to see," Anna said defensively. "Don't tell Elsa. Please?"

"You know I won't," he sighed, startling a little when his queen threw an arm around him in thanks.

She'd always been overly affectionate – a novelty the servants of the castle hadn't come across in their royal family until now. The late king and queen had been kind and polite but naturally distant. Their daughter, Queen Elsa, was as reticent as any lone wolf one might encounter on a trip up the North Mountain. She did not stop to converse with the staff and was even more tight-lipped around people of similar breeding to herself. Anna on the other hand exuded a warmth that she seemed to want to share with everyone regardless of social standing. He'd seen her hug commoners on the street, much to his mute horror.

Kai pat Queen Anna's back and let a fond hand settle on Astrid's sleeping head. "How did she enjoy her first foaling?"

Anna pulled back, adjusting the grip she had around Astrid. "She loved it, Kai. You should have seen her little face when the colt was born! It made all the really embarrassing questions she'll ask tomorrow totally worth it."

"So it's a colt then?"

"Yep." Anna smiled proudly down at the sleeping girl. "I'm going to put this one back to bed. See you tomorrow, Kai." She nodded and left the kitchens as he affectionately shook his head and continued on with his tasks.

Anna set Astrid down gently in bed, pulling the covers up under her chin and laying a soft kiss against her forehead. The girl snuffled at the action but stilled rapidly, subconsciously burrowing deeper into her covers. She looked so much like her mother in that moment. Her blonde hair spilled across the pillow and her nose twitched as she dreamed. It made Anna's heart swell with love and adoration.

Astrid had been their miracle baby. Anna was reminded of this every day by merely being in her daughter's presence. They'd been ready to adopt – had picked the orphanage and readied the nursery, hired nursemaids and tutors. She'd never had any qualms about adoption. She'd known what marring Elsa would entail – no biological heirs for one, but absolute all-consuming love for another. Biological children had seemed like a small lost battle in the midst of winning the war.

And then …

Morning sickness. Afternoon sickness. Evening sickness. A small pooch to her stomach she couldn't suck in no matter how much she tried. Cravings for onions. Cravings for Elsa. Crying at the drop of a hat for no apparent reason whatsoever.

Elsa had been mystified by the healer's diagnosis.

A baby?

Pregnancy?

Her wife pregnant?

Infidelity seemed like the most logical explanation, were it not for Anna bursting into jubilant tears and crowing on about a gift from Skadi. She'd requested an audience with the trolls and Grand Pabbie had cemented what Anna had known to be true and Elsa had tried desperately not to hope for.

It was theirs. Entirely theirs. Made from magic. Made from love.

This revelation changed something in Elsa. She seemed more approachable, smiling dazedly during meetings and looking over her advisor's shoulders like she was seeing into some imminent future concealed to all but her. Maybe she was. Anna herself had daydreamt of their growing family for months on end.

Anna still remembered the words Elsa had whispered in her ear the stormy night Astrid had been born. "I've dreamed of this since the moment I saw you." Had she not been so exhausted, and had their new little babe not been nursing contentedly on her abdomen, Anna was sure she'd have yanked Elsa down for a bruising kiss. Instead she'd settled for a pleased hum as Elsa nuzzled her cheek and peppered her face with soft butterfly kisses.

"Good night, sweetheart," Anna whispered to Astrid as she slipped out of the room quietly, closing the door behind her.

She made her way back to her own room following the lit lanterns. When she entered she was not surprised to find the bed empty. She couldn't remember the last time she and Elsa had retired to bed at the same hour. She disrobed and fell into bed with a happy groan, twisting in the luxurious sheets despite their missing occupant.

She was startled awake by said 'missing occupant' hours later. The moon hung low, battling the lights in the sky for dominance of the night. Elsa smoothed her rebellious hair down and scooted into the bed, letting her long limbs circle around Anna's slight frame with a happy sigh. Anna smiled sleepily into her wife's collarbone in response to the contented exhale she felt against her forehead.

"Tighter," she murmured.

She felt Elsa smiling against her cheek before the queen acquiesced and brought her closer – tighter – against her chest. Anna whined in gratified pleasure and let herself drift off once more.

* * *

The following morning the awkward questions did arise as Anna had predicted. Astrid spooned her porridge in between the flurry of inquiries, never halting for an answer, but steadily ploughing on regardless. Anna smiled fondly back at her daughter, glancing occasionally at the Head of their family who looked absolutely baffled by the child sitting opposite them.

Elsa cleared her throat and let her clasped hands rest on the wooden table. It was the same pose she adopted in her trade meetings and it made Anna hold in a snort. Their six year old made the Queen of Arrendelle, mistress of snow and ice, _nervous_. It was almost laughable. "Astrid, why all the sudden questions this morning?"

"Momma took me to see the foal," Astrid explained. Elsa turned her head gradually to glare at her wife who only looked back at her with a pleasant smile. "And then I wanted to ask you 'bout how babies are made."

Elsa coloured magnificently. She was almost as red as the jam Anna was spreading on her piece of bread as her wife tried valiantly not to laugh. The queen coughed awkwardly and closed her eyes to regain her bearings.

"Yes … well," she said slowly, clearly at a loss. Astrid merely looked at her with her wide crystal eyes, large and pleading and she cursed internally at her own weakness. "I think that's a question to be answered when you're a little older." She sounded much too desperate to her own ears and winced internally.

"Hmm, okay," Astrid replied amiably, completely unperturbed. She finished her bowl and looked to Elsa. "May I be excused?"

Elsa nodded wearily. "You may."

Astrid let out a happy whoop of delight and slid off her chair, bounding first to her Momma to kiss her cheek and then to Elsa who leaned down gratefully for her own little peck. Together they watched the girl take off out of the dining room. Then, Elsa rounded immediately on Anna who had dissolved into a fit of rambunctious giggles.

"I thought we spoke about waiting until she was a little more _mature_ before bringing her foaling!" Elsa hissed at her wife.

"She wanted to see," Anna said cheerfully by way of explanation. "And don't tell me you don't absolutely melt when she uses those big blue eyes on you."

Elsa rolled her own eyes. She refused to answer. That in itself said enough.

"Anyway, I was her age for my first foaling. It's a rite of passage for us Winterland gals." Anna flexed an arm with a lewd expression that made Elsa raise an eyebrow. "We're the hearty rough and tumble type."

"You're right about the tumble part." Anna smacked her arm and Elsa feigned hurt, whining pitifully. "Oww! A coup! A coup! Guards, we have an uprising on our hands!"

Anna tugged the queen in for a hard kiss, silencing her quite affectively. They smiled against each other's lips and let themselves get lost in the contact for a few snatched moments of bliss before the day officially began. And it began in the form of Kai and Gerda arriving with the day's agenda forcing them to part.

Elsa groaned into her wife's neck at her staff's untimely appearance. Anna let her hands curl in the woman's hair, giggling.

"Morning, Your Majesties," the two chorused readily.

"Good morning." The sound was gruff as it tumbled out of Elsa's mouth.

"Now, Queen Elsa, here is today's meeting schedule and you'll be pleased to know that …"

Elsa hummed and hawed appropriately without truly knowing what it was she was agreeing to. Her eyes kept unyieldingly to Anna's before her wife placed a delicate kiss on the tip of her nose with a whispered promise to see her at supper. Then she left Elsa to her work.

The traitor.

* * *

Astrid showed up at supper with her braids undone and her skirts sullied with what Elsa hoped beyond hope was mud. She cantered in with her bright easy chatter, regaling them with her heroic feats of the day as the meal was served by the staff. They too were enjoying the little princess's yarn. It contained what all great tales so often did; intrigue, dragons, knights, towers and happily ever after's.

"Sounds like you had a busy day," Anna said helping the princess to cut up her meat.

"Yeah! It was the best. And I went to see Joff in the stables after lunch with Gerda – that's what I called the new foal, Mom—" Astrid told Elsa with a staunch nod. "And Jasper let me pet him a little."

"So that's why there's a horse smell in here," Elsa mused, ducking her wife's hand when it soared dangerously close to her unbruised arm. She smirked playfully at the other woman who grumble around her fork.

"Momma," Astrid said suddenly. "How did you and Mom get married?"

Anna chewed thoughtfully before answering. "Hmm, well Mom asked me for one. Then there was a priest - although Olaf was very adamant about being the one to marry us - and we had to say our vows and kiss. And tada! We were married."

"Why do you ask, Astrid?" Elsa probed.

"Just wanted to know." She speared a piece of broccoli with her fork. "And how did you and Momma meet, Mom?"

Elsa frowned delicately at her daughter. Anna was grinning widely and fidgeting in her seat like she wanted to regale them all with an over-exaggerated tale of how Queen Elsa of Arrendelle amassed what little courage she'd had at the time, and decided to court the _very_ sophisticated and not at all clumsy Princess of the Winterlands.

"You want to know how I met your mother?" Elsa echoed back vacantly.

Astrid shrugged. "Sure."

Elsa stared at the little girl expressionlessly before her wife dug an elbow into her side. She yelped at the assault before scoffing and admitting defeat.

"Alright then." She put her knife and fork down and took her wife's hand in hers. Anna was _beaming_ at her now. Well and truly. Elsa smiled back reflexively despite the growing bruise. Anna's happiness was her happiness. "Well it all began when I was eighteen years old …"


	2. The Princess and I

A/N: I've noticed there being some issue with supposed spelling mistakes. I'd wager a few are due to my spelling in the English way rather than the American way. I apologise for the inconvenience caused to the followers of this story that reside across the pond. On an different note, review responses can be found at the end of this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen.

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Chapter II

The Princess and I

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The first time Princess Elsa sets her eyes on Princess Anna of the Winterlands, the glass in her hand freezes and explodes into a million fragments. The jolt of it is so swift that Elsa's shoulders curve with the intensity of the contained blast. Thankfully she has tucked herself into a dark corner of the ballroom, by the dessert table and tray of chocolates. The incident goes by undetected.

Elsa breathes harshly in and out and in again. She feels the freeze bubble under her fingertips and clenches an icy fist under her cloak, watching Anna in rapture. Her jaw is slack. Her dark tempestuous eyes are as wide as dinner plates. Anna is all she sees.

With some level of lucidity Elsa realizes that the Princess of the Winterlands is as adorably freckled and warm as the whispers around the castle proclaimed her to be. She doesn't walk or talk or act like the other ladies attending her parent's party. Her smile radiates sunshine, her hair shines in the candlelight, her laugh is brash and undignified and Elsa is sure she's seen the girl trip over the skirts of her dress at least a dozen times.

She's smitten. Head over heels. Irrevocably in love.

"How are you?"

Elsa turns to meet her father's concerned gaze, momentarily snapped out of her stupor. His lean frame has blocked Anna from view as the princess begins to mime something for her very amused audience. Elsa wanes like a flower cut off from sunlight. But her father has come down especially from his throne to speak to her and guilt tightens her stomach. His smile is constricted and the lines of his face are marked with worry for her. She feels another pang, one of grief, and looks down at the intricate marble floor.

"Fine, father," she breathes.

"I saw the glass," he murmurs under the swell of the quartet. He shuffles uncertainly, clears his throat.

"It's under control." Elsa looks up into his eyes. Grey steel like blades. Or storm clouds. Her own eyes then automatically lift to the strand of white in his hair – standing in a stark contrast to his brown locks.

The king looks at her for a moment before acquiescing gently. Everything he does is gentle towards her. Hesitant even. Elsa thinks part of him is afraid she'll shatter like a snowflake. Or that she will shatter him in turn. He touches her shoulder and smiles tenderly, turning on his heel and folding back into the mass of gentry and nobility. Elsa watches him strike conversation with his admiral and allows herself to deflate.

She adores her father and mother. She holds their love in the highest esteem. Yet, she may never embrace them. May never risk the consequences that her powers could cause. Not again. They know this. She knows this. They keep their distances – conversations are always light of any real substance. They don't delve into Elsa's feelings or her powers. They do this to protect each other. However, the separation is felt on both fronts.

Elsa's eyes flit distractedly to Anna. The princess is among a group of ladies who are laughing uproariously at her highness's tale.

She exhales in lamentation and makes for the safety of her chambers with a slow step. She does not notice how Princess Anna's eyes follow her leave.

* * *

The second time Elsa sees Princess Anna; she is no longer a princess. She is now Queen of Arendelle, poised and elegant at her coronation ball. And Anna is as boisterous and daring as ever. The princess flits from dance partner to dance partner, her laughter melding with the sounds of the string quartet like a planned harmony. Elsa catches snatches of red at random intervals in her peripheral vision, but nothing substantial. Anna is too active to be pinned down.

Elsa herself moves slowly through the throngs of people, speaking to everyone and declining offers to dance with a polite shake of the head and apology of more people to greet. Thankfully no one gets too close – they bow and curtsy, smile and congratulate her on a beautiful ceremony – yet no soul is brave enough to invade the monarch's personal space.

Well … until …

"OOF!" Elsa grunts as someone body slams quite viciously into her stomach, flattening the queen to the ground. The guests gasp in unified horror and the string quartet make an off-key sort of noise and stop playing.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry! The Duke of Wesleton threw me in some weird dance move and, god, this is so embarrassing …"

Elsa feels the weight on her sternum shift. She brings a hand to her aching temple and looks up, quite nonplussed to see Princess Anna trying to shimmy to her feet in her constricting spring green ball gown, still indecently half pressed into the queen. Elsa gapes at her, and raises the hand from her temple up to steady the slipping tiara on her head.

At the motion, Princess Anna stops for a second to peer down at her victim. All the colour instantly drains from her face. Her mouth makes an astonished 'o' that gives her the uncanny resemblance of a fish out of water.

"Queen Elsa!" she squeaks as she finally manages to scrambles off the monarch. "Oh my god, oh my god, I am so sorry! Oh god, this is my fault entirely, let me help you up …"

Elsa unwittingly takes the offered hand which Princess Anna extends and allows the girl to haul her to her feet, hurriedly dismissing aid from the concerned staff and guests. It is only when the small gathering of curious onlookers has dispersed back into the party that Elsa notices the warm grip still in hers. The contact makes her stiffen and Princess Anna, sensing the change in the queen's demeanour, let's go as if she has been burned.

"S-sorry," Princess Anna groans. "I'm not very good at these things. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Elsa hears herself spit out, her voice coming to her as though from a great depth. She's hugging herself like a loon and backing away from the princess with urgency.

Anna touched her. Anna touched _her_.

Why isn't she dead? Why isn't the ice _burning_ and crawling at her skin?

Her fists clench within the confines of her cloak and she fights—my how she fights—against the terrible blizzard that begins building inside of her at Princess Anna's proximity. The girl doesn't seem to understand the hint. For every step that Elsa takes in reverse, the princess takes two steps forward.

"Can I make it up to you? I mean, if that's not weird of me to preposition? Not-not- not that I'm prepositioning anything sinister, especially not courtship which is what Wesleton kept trying to preposition _me_ …" Princess Anna rushes to explain at Elsa's disturbed expression, "Not that I'm against courtship! I mean, you seem so kind and wonderful … um … Wow, I'll stop talking now."

"Thank you?" Elsa pronounces haltingly. Somewhere behind them the instruments begin playing anew, the soft sounds of a cello permeating through the roar in the queen's ears. She finally stops walking, lips thinning and ready to accept her grim fate.

_There are worse ways to go,_ she supposes, letting herself gaze into Anna's cobalt eyes.

"So, yeah," Princess Anna declares, "I'm sorry about knocking you over. But, hey, at least I got to talk to you! I've been wanting to for a really long time."

The blizzard titters to an end. Instead a great warmth unfurls in Elsa's chest. "Really?" She must look incredulous, blinking perplexedly.

Princess Anna bites her lip shyly. The action makes Elsa's stomach tighten. "Yeah …" She looks up at the older girl dreamily before remembering her royal heritage and having the decency to correct her poor grammar. "I mean, yes. Your Majesty just looked so graceful and refined that I never … I never thought you'd want to talk to me," the younger girl reveals softly.

Elsa loosens her fists and unwraps her arms from around her midsection and thinks, _oh how wrong you are_.

"Maybe I'll have to thank the Duke later for the push," Princess Anna laughs shrugging sheepishly.

"I may thank him myself," Elsa murmurs, barely loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the party. Anna hears her though. Her cheeks colour and she smiles like someone has given her the most precious gift.

* * *

They drink wine and talk. Anna tells her about growing up in the Winterlands – how the ice shapes the people as beautifully as the people shape the ice; what the castle looks like bathed in fresh snow; and how goofy and obsessed with his reindeer her brother is. Elsa giggles at the princess's animated tales, enamoured by the passion Anna displays as she speaks. Her cheeks colour each time Anna leans in close to whisper a giggled gibe at some of the gentlemen's less than graceful footwork, or whenever the princess stops to look at her with a wide smile.

"Are you having fun?" Elsa asks, tapping her wine glass with a gloved finger nervously. She hopes the princess is. It's been so long since she's spoken to anyone outside of the castle – never mind someone of her own age. She's rather anxious that she might be doing this wrong.

"Oodles." Anna grins at the queen. Elsa lets loose a quiet relieved breath. "Especially now."

"Good."

At this, Anna ducks her head coyly and Elsa tries to remember how to breathe when a warm hand lays itself gently at her bent elbow. The princess opens her mouth but before the sentence can be uttered Elsa spies the prince of the Southern Isles making a bee-line for them through the crowd and turns away to greet him, perhaps a little too thankful for the interruption. She misses Anna's pout and the irate scowl she throws at the new arrival.

"Your Majesty," the prince says with a bow when he has reached them, "I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. Thank you for inviting me to your wonderful ceremony."

"The pleasure was all mine," Elsa replies readily. She lengthens her spine and adopts her new persona with surprising ease. "How are you enjoying the ball?"

"It's marvellous!" Prince Hans exclaims, eyes flitting intermittently to Anna at her side. Elsa feels the frost prickle in her fingertips and tries not to imagine impaling him with icicles. "I've just made the acquaintance of Prince Kristoff who directed me over to this side of the ballroom to meet his sister."

"Is that so? May I be so bold as to make the introductions then," Elsa says directly. She places her empty wine glass on a passing tray and with her now free hand gestures to Prince Hans as he smiles idiotically at Anna. "Prince Hans, may I introduce to you Princess Anna of the Winterlands."

The prince takes the girl's hand and kisses it in a true show of chivalry. Elsa almost loses her lunch.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Highness." Hans grins as he straightens himself to his full height. It angers Elsa, perhaps to the point of irrationality, that he is much taller than she.

"Likewise," Anna says with a nod. The two stare at each other in mutual interest. Much to Elsa's chagrin, she can see the thoughts ricocheting through Prince Hans' head. Anna is very beautiful – breathtakingly stunning even. And the eligible princess of a very powerful and wealthy nation to boot.

"If you could both please excuse me," she mutters out acidly, taking hold of the edge of her cloak and striding away from the pair without a backwards glance.

She makes it as far as her throne, sitting on it with an air of palpable displeasure before Gerda leaves her station to see if she is all right. Elsa softens at the query. Gerda has always been her closest confidant. Her family has been employed in the castle for three generations; Gerda has grown up in the same halls as Elsa and learned how to deal with exasperating royals first-hand. Thus with this in mind, the angry retort that had been welling inside her ready to burst out in a show of ice and snow dies instantly. Instead the queen sighs in a regretful sound and nods briefly into the crowd.

"I've met someone," she says. The unexpectedness of the fact doesn't shock or amaze the servant like she expects.

Instead, Gerda's face visibly brightens at the admission. She claps her hands delightedly. "Who is he, Your Majesty?"

Elsa shakes her head minutely. "Not _he_, Gerda. _She_."

Gerda seems unfazed by this and reiterates quite smoothly, "Okay then. Who is she? Have I seen her? I hope you haven't fallen for the Duchess of Elvedeer, Your Majesty. I mean I know she's- if you'll pardon me- well-endowed in the … well …"she gestures vaguely to her own chest. "But she's got a horrid reputation. You need someone that'll stand by your side as an equal."

Elsa's brows rise to meet her hairline at her servant's passionate speech. True, she is closer to Gerda than most of the staff, but her reserved nature had prevented them from straying into a more informal connection. Gerda's bluntness is surprising and rather welcome. "I didn't know you felt that way, Gerda."

Gerda smiles warmly at her. "You'll feel the same way when you have children, Your Majesty." She chuckles lowly at the insecure expression on her queen's face at the mention of children. "Oh don't make that face at me. I've changed your diapers. You're as close to a daughter to me as anything so I _know_ you'll make a fantastic mother."

Elsa coughs awkwardly, covertly thrilled, letting her eyes pan the length and width of the ballroom. They narrow in on Anna and Prince Hans talking animatedly near the veranda doors. She scowls.

"It's not the Duchess of Elvedeer," she grits out. A pause. "What do you know of Prince Hans, Gerda?"

Gerda's face pinches in concentration, eyes searching for the prince in question. "Of the Southern Isles? Not much I'm afraid. I know he's 13th in the line of succession for the throne."

Elsa scoffs at this sliver of information.

Gerda regards her monarch with a dubious look before she finally spies Prince Hans standing next to a very pretty redhead. The two are chatting amiably, looking at the very least content in each other's company. She recognises the young woman as Princess Anna of the Winterlands. She smiles widely in recognition before it turns sly, bordering on smug.

She glances pointedly at Elsa. "Princess Anna," she drawls teasingly. "I see …"

"Not another word, Gerda," Elsa grumbles out.

Gerda mimes a lock and key over her lips but her eyes dance with mirth. She sways to the music as she stands by Elsa's seated side, fixated on the prince and princess at the far end of the ballroom. She can see why Princess Anna has captured the Queen's attention. The princess is so vibrant and full of life!

_She'll do well to marry the girl and liven up this dreary old castle,_ Gerda thinks, as she glances quickly at Elsa sitting unbendingly on her throne, inspecting the festivities from her vantage point. Gerda trains her eyes back into the crowd, in time to see Prince Kristoff joining the pair and Prince Hans' less than pleased expression at the interruption. She points this out to Elsa who nods, satisfied.

"I've always liked Prince Kristoff. Remind me to knight him later."

Gerda snickers with her chin tucked into her chest to mask the indulged look on her face. "Of course."

* * *

A/N: Chapters will from now be posted every Monday. Thank you to anyone who has read, favorited, followed and reviewed.

Review Responses:

happy anon: Thank you, I try to keep the characters as true to their canon counterparts as possible. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.

SpicaCygnus: Kai will get a lot funnier as the story progresses, trust me. And thank you for the review.

ShadowWolfBeast: Thank you for the review. I'm glad so many people have been positive about Astrid being biologically theirs.

Guest: Thank you for the review. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

LilDemonWarrior: I admit it wasn't the best ending to a series I've ever seen. Still beats Glee though. You'll get to see more Elsa/Anna mothering interactions and I'll let you be the judge of what kind of mothers they are.

Mozart's Starling: This story won't follow the HIMYM pattern, rest assured.

SilverOsprey: Astrid is definitely outgoing and takes after Anna more so than Elsa. Although we'll see why in later chapters.

: ¡muchas gracias. I have next to no Spanish I'm afraid but Google Translate has helped me understand that you like my style of writing. So thank you and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

Guest: Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far.

Deliberatee: You'll definitely see more Elsa/Astrid moments. We'll delve into their relationship continuously.

Lauren H 91: Oh gosh, have you really? To think I've been writing for Glee since I was sixteen ... I'm sorry I put you through the humble beginnings of my writing! Moreover, I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

Guest: I'm glad you're enjoying Astrid's character.

Rose: I hope this latest chapter was to your liking.

Man of Constant Sorrow: Love is love, I agree. However, the story I've had brewing in my mind for the past several weeks wouldn't have worked if they were sisters. As a writer, my aim was to spin the canon world on it's head and spark a new world for fans to enjoy. It's simply for fun. Although I'm glad you've enjoyed the story thus far and I hope this chapter was to your liking.

: Thank you for being so enthusiastic! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter as fervently.


	3. A Princess Request

Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen

* * *

Chapter III

A Princess Request

* * *

Astrid's eyes were drooping and unfocused as Elsa and Anna finished the tale. If only for now. Her lashes touched the sprinkling of freckles on her round cheeks as she said, "And then what happened, Momma? Did Uncle Kristoff stop you from falling in love with Prince Hans?" Even her voice was laced with sleep. The words were murky with it.

Anna leaned forward to tuck the covers around the little girl. She kissed her forehead gently, letting her fingers brush back errant blonde locks into place. Astrid's hair was always doing that. Always charmingly disarrayed and wild.

Elsa stood to attention at the foot of the bed like a proud legionnaire, watching her wife and daughter with spellbound devotion. It was hard to meditate over the perfection of the scene playing out before her eyes. Sometimes she could scarcely believe they were well and truly hers. That she deserved these jewels in her life after everything.

"What do you think?" Anna said with a conspiring wink sent her wife's way. She arranged Astrid's horde of stuffed animals around the bed, then handed her daughter Sir Bjorg the Dog so that he could keep watch and protect his charge from ill-behaved sprites and goblins.

"I think Uncle Kristoff is really cool," Astrid said around a large gaping yawn. She snuggled into Sir Bjorg and mouthed at one of his stumpy ears.

_I think Uncle Kristoff is really cool too_, Elsa thought as she fought back a grin. "Goodnight, Astrid," is what she said instead.

She and Anna then ducked out of the room; her wife wishing Astrid one last breathy goodnight before closing the door softly behind them.

The lanterns were still lighting in the late hour and suits of armour cast large shadows on the walls when they found themselves in the corridor. Yet the couple paid them no attention. Instead they simply looked at each other. A multitude of feelings passed in the simple link. Gratitude, happiness, kinship – love. Elsa's eyes softened considerably at seeing that particular emotion. She would never tire of it.

"It's nice hearing your version of things," Anna murmured, sidling closer to a more than willing queen.

Elsa wrapped her arms around the Queen Consort and let their foreheads rest gently. She inhaled the unique scent of Anna before closing her eyes in brief bliss. Their smell, their family scent, hit her full force like a rampaging thoroughbred.

"I didn't think she'd want to hear it all the way to bedtime," Elsa revealed in an undertone. "My throat hurts from all the talking."

Anna kissed her then. It was a long heartfelt kiss that made Elsa's toes curl and her arms tighten conclusively around the other woman's waist. Heat blossomed in her heart until all she was capable of thinking was – _Anna, Anna, Anna, Anna. _

"I love you," Anna whispered around a gasped breath against Elsa trembling lips. "And I love that you were mine before either of us knew it."

Elsa laughed then, knocking Anna's forehead gently with her own. "As though I had any say in the matter."

Anna bit her bottom lip enticingly. The action made Elsa bite back a whimper of appreciation. "Bedroom?"

The young ruler groaned aloud now and crushed Anna to her with little finesse, claiming her mouth for her own.

* * *

She was awoken a few hours later by a little knee roughly digging into her lower abdomen. When she'd sat up with a hissed wince and her eyes had adjusted to the dark of the royal bedroom, she was finally able to discern a tiny figure sitting on her haunches in the bed with them. This wasn't new. Astrid had been crawling into bed with them quite regularly, a habit they'd been trying to break.

"Astrid?" she whispered groggily. "What are you doing out of bed?" Briefly she thanked Skadi they'd had the presence of mind to put on night shirts after making love. There were only so many embarrassing questions a mother could take in twenty four hours.

"Woke up," the little girl said simply, Sir Bjorg was crammed under an armpit looking a little worse for wear.

Astrid tucked an invisible strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so familiar, so _Anna_, that the queen didn't have the heart to turn the little girl away back to her own room.

Yet, she blanched. She had never been very … nurturing, towards Astrid. Most of the scraped knees and tears fell under Momma's jurisdiction. _Mom_ on the other hand was the disciplinarian – Mom was the voice of reason that permeated through the fog of fancies Anna and Astrid always concocted together.

She had half a mind to rouse her wife awake to deal with their little charge before shaking her head at the childishness of the notion. She was being unreasonable. Waking Anna from her deep sleep just because Elsa was afraid to handle their six year old? She could imagine her parents shaking their heads in mortification from beyond the grave. Above all Anna was _very_ deeply asleep. Snoring too, though she'd protested this fact on more than one occasion. Even an avalanche wouldn't wake her now.

It was just … Astrid still looked so _fragile_. Elsa always worried about hurting her. She had a delicate countenance and was bright eyed with innocence. Elsa didn't want to ruin that. As a babe the queen had been almost averse to holding her, so concerned was she that the ice that had been mastered should rebel and freeze her pride and joy solid. Those apprehensions had waned with time but now, faced with Astrid alone, they bubbled to the surface in angry and random spurts.

She rubbed at the bridge of her nose with a sigh, trying to ease the tension she found there. She wished someone had told her how emotionally taxing having a child would be roughly six years ago.

"Can I hear more of the story?"

Elsa opened one eye lazily. Astrid's thumb had once again journeyed to her mouth and the other hand was busy fingering the end of a strand of hair.

"That's why you're up?" she muttered, almost to herself. She finally sighed in defeat at the tiny nod she received in response and opened her arms for Astrid to crawl into, reclining back against the headboard. Astrid smiled thankfully around her thumb and burrowed into her mother's arms, a true novelty she was going to make the most out of.

"We have to be quiet and not make up Momma," Elsa said softly, feeling Astrid nod against her collarbone. "Okay, now where was I?"

"The ball, Mom," Astrid supplied helpfully. She sat Sir Bjorg up against the queen's arm so that he too could hear the story.

Elsa nodded, losing herself in her memories as they curled like shadows over their heads and took form. "That's right. The ball."

* * *

When the party winds to a definitive end, Elsa remains seated at her throne to watch the last stragglers leave. Some need to be forcefully pulled away from their champagne glasses – others from the dance floor. The rest of the guests depart with little fuss for their chambers or the mansions that dot the Arendelle countryside and is home to many a nobleman.

She is spent from the stresses of the day and the entire evening used to re-forge ties with countries she'd forgotten existed. The Duke of Weasleton had been the most taxing guest. He'd hovered just a tad too close the entire evening, trying to promote a trade agreement between their two nations. She'd shaken him off by introducing him to as many power-hungry noblewomen looking for a dance as she could. There had been many. The Duke had been in cheery and tipsy company for most of the evening and had not had the time nor space to approach her in the midst of all his admirers.

Holding back a yawn Elsa rises to her feet and thanks all the servants for their preparations these last few weeks. She had been difficult and turbulent as the ceremony approached. Thankfully the Arendelle staff had taken the brunt of her foul and anxious humour with the utmost respect and understanding. She owes them much and tells them so.

With her piece said, she sweeps out of the ballroom. Gerda trails after her, shooting last minute instructions at the staff.

"Lord and Lady Coventry have been allocated separate rooms as you stipulated, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Gerda." Elsa rubs a tired hand over her aching forehead as they ascend the stairs to the first floor and walk briskly along the lit hallway. "And what of Count Hayfern?"

"Sleeping the last of the ale off in the stables I suppose," Gerda says, quickening her step to open the door to the queen's chambers.

Elsa nods dubiously. She'd hazard to guess Count Hayfern had probably infiltrated their cellar sometime in the evening and was drinking them out of house and home. Nevertheless she holds her tongue on the matter and unfastens the cloak from her shoulders, letting it drop unceremoniously to the floor by the vanity. She'll have someone fish him out of there in the morning. Her mind is already moving onto its next target …

"Prince Hans?"

Gerda knows to read between the lines after half a lifetime of service to the crown and chuckles as she folds the cape neatly for one of the handmaidens to find tomorrow. "He left the party with a preening and big-bosomed Duchess."

Elsa turns her head so quickly Gerda worries her neck might snap with the sudden abruptness of it. "Really? With the Duchess of Elvedeer?"

"Yes, really," she says with a fond shake of her head. She rolls her eyes at Elsa's triumphant smirk and busies herself undressing her queen and shoving a nightgown over her head. "Princess Anna retired to her chamber alone. I had Kai make sure of that."

"You are one of a kind, Gerda," Elsa says in true admiration.

Gerda hums agreeably as she undoes Elsa's elaborate bun. It's no secret that the entire castle would fall apart without her. "Are you really thinking of courting the princess, Elsa?"

Elsa knows Gerda is no longer teasing. The use of her name – such an intimate address – has her pausing for thought to really mull over what Gerda is asking her to consider. Is she willing to court Anna despite her powers? How does one explain being able to summon ice and snow at will? How does one explain that the terror that has haunted generations of Arendelle royalty is in fact … because of her? There are rooms and dungeons in this castle as a testimony to this fact.

Elsa looks to Gerda as a daughter would look to her mother. Her eyes are wide and dark, beseeching the woman to give her the answers. "I would like to," she whispers. "But I'm afraid." She flexes her hands to prove the point. Little parks of snow emit at the action.

"I cannot tell you what is best," Gerda murmurs back, knowing of Elsa's unspoken fear and the secret she and this castle harbours. A fear and secret that is closely guarded by a select few. "Only that I wish to see you happy. "

Elsa lets the woman's words sink in for a moment before shaking her head to dislodge them entirely. She is much to weary to contemplate a courtship right now or the metaphorical guillotine that has been hanging above her neck since before her birth. One false move …

She smiles at Gerda dismissively and sinks into her bed just as the woman closes the door behind her. She cannot, will not, believe that she … – _No, Elsa_, she chides. _Don't think of it._

She finally falls asleep after much fretting but startles awake hours later with beads of perspiration clinging to her shoulders and forehead. The dreams haunt her still in the living world. She can still feel the phantom pressure of Anna's body against hers and the vision of a small babe in her arms. She gasps against the emotions the picture evokes in her and throws the covers from her sweaty shaking body.

She paces the room a few restless times. Ice begins to crawl across the floorboards and up the legs of the bed. Elsa hardly notices. It isn't until dawn has broken over Arendelle that she slows to a stop to gaze out the window in contemplation.

The city below lights with the rising sun and the ice that has exploded in the queen's room glitters as the rays touch its surface. Merchants and shopkeepers busy at their work are blissfully unaware of the ice that curls menacingly around the iron beams of the queen's canopy bed.

Elsa's fingers flex on the frozen windowsill. She can still feel the yearning in her bones – for Anna, for the child, for a life she could have if she were … normal. She dresses silently, still lost in thought, and makes her way to the royal family's private dining room where the servants hasten their step to serve the queen her morning coffee.

She sips at the beverage as Kai enters to deposit a large thick leather bound ledger at her side, mentioning something about Count Hayfern having spent the night in some bushes in the castle gardens. He looks irate as he delivers the news.

"I should be surprised?" Elsa quirks an eyebrow at her Chamberlain, glad for the distraction. "Do you not remember my sixteenth birthday celebrations, Kai? Father found three prostitutes in the Count's room."

The man chuckles softly, his face relaxing from its tense frown. "Yes," he admits.

"Will that be all?" Elsa asks as she finishes her cup and peruses the latest entry in the ledger.

"Not all, my Queen. The Princess of the Winterlands would like to know if you are free this afternoon to lunch with her and Prince Kristoff?"

Elsa perks at this, blushing prettily. She swallows and tries to appear nonchalant as she questions, "Really? Is the princess already up?"

Kai shakes his head. "No. She posed the question to me last night when I was asked by Gerda to … um," he falters here for something appropriate to describe his tailing the princess to her chambers.

"I know all about Gerda's request of you, Kai." Elsa laughs at the man's pained expression. "Don't worry."

"Thank you." Kai dabs at his forehead with a handkerchief produced from the top pocket of his vest. "Shall I have one of the handmaidens tell the princess you are otherwise indisposed?"

Elsa pauses for thought. She knows she cannot risk getting too close to Anna. Yet, as the Queen of Arendelle she cannot turn down luncheon requests from visiting royalty. The scandal and damage in the court would be almost irreparable. "No need, Kai. Tell Princess Anna I will meet her here at lunchtime. Have Gerda escort her and Prince Kristoff."

"As you wish," he says in subdued surprise, bowing once and turning on his heels to do his queen's bidding.

* * *

A/N: It was quite difficult trying to write this chapter. Trying to capture Elsa and Astrid's relationship had me tearing my hair out for days. Again thank you to everyone who read, favourited, followed and reviewed.

Review Responses:

Lauren H 91: Stop, I'm blushing! Gerda is my home-girl, too. She's like Elsa's personal Gemini Cricket.

ShadowWolfBeast: Thanks! We get to see more facets of Anna and Gerda as the story continues - darker stuff though. You've been forewarned.

Rose: Jealous Elsa is incredibly fun to write so I'm glad you enjoyed it. Hope you enjoyed Gerda's characterisation here, too.

Guest: Hans is actually an incredibly minor character in the story. She'll be competing for sure, but not against a suitor.

Guest: Thank you, next chapter will have some more Elsa/Anna interaction.

Yuiiub: Yep, I'm very glad!

Unsightly: Thank you!

FanOfAction: Here it is, with more Anna and Elsa for your viewing pleasure.

juancarlos-valdezmedina: Thank you, that's probably the nicest compliment I could have gotten.

R3dN0te: You're welcome and thank you for reviewing.

Tripower: Thank you! I'm so glad Astrid is growing on people.

TheSapphireRose: Thank you!

Guest: Thank you very much!


	4. The Unending Winter Foretold

Chapter IV

The Unending Winter Foretold

* * *

Elsa spends her morning reading. Amongst her reading material are propositions, trade agreements, fiscal reports, maritime weather reports, Arendelle port hours – anything with numbers and figures really. It's new territory she must become familiar with as queen. The daily running of Arendelle, prior to her coronation, had fallen to the Council of Lords who she can see from the ledgers, have helped themselves generously to funds in the treasury. No wonder their tax rates for the past three years have been so high – it was to supplement the missing currency going straight into the Lords' pockets.

The castle finances on the other end of the spectrum are of some comfort. They have been kept in line by Kai and Gerda since the late King and Queen's passing. Everything is balanced. Everything ads up. The staff salaries are up to date and their stables are even making a small profit with the annual selling of the Yearlings it produces. Elsa finds herself sighing in relief and thanking her Chamberlain and Head of the day Staff fervently under her breath.

A small victory however, does not win a war. Elsa groans mildly at the ever growing stack of papers Kai presents her. The man at least has the decency to excuse his presence at each of his visits to her study with a "Pardon for the intrusion, Your Majesty". Which is a strange thought. _Her_ study. In her mind she's always branded this room as her father's personal space.

Proof of her father's reign is imprinted all over this room. Trinkets from his travels to foreign kingdoms are on display at every corner. His insignia branded on a suit of armour by his personal bookcase; the mounted head of an elk he'd taken down as a prince over the grand double doors; a family portrait with a little Elsa perched on her mother's knee as the king looked down on his family with pride. Elsa feels him in every nook and cranny. The thought is both humbling and a little unsettling.

At lunch time one of the servants knocks carefully at the door to summon her to the dining room. She thanks him and rises, stretching out the kinks in her back and the stiffness in her shoulders. Her brain feels heavy with the avalanche of information she's just unearthed. Food would probably do her some good.

_And I get to see Anna._

There's a new bounce in her step that the guards patrolling the halls notice at once. They halt and salute as she strides passed, baffled to see their reticent monarch acknowledge them with an enormous beaming smile. Elsa pays their confusion no mind – she is in much too high a spirits to stop and ponder over her staff's opinions of her.

Her good mood is further heightened by the sight of Anna and Prince Kristoff laughing with their server as he pours them each a goblet of wine. They're both dressed casually, looking more at ease than they ever did last night. Anna's hair has been let loose down her back in molten waves, tumbling down her summer dress while Prince Kristoff's sticks up in every which way. Elsa stops at the entryway of the dining room to watch them for a moment.

They look at home. More at home than Elsa ever has. Prince Kristoff is breaking bread and passing it to his sister like they have sat here and done this all their lives.

Anna notices her finally and waves her in with a happy elated cry of, "Your Majesty, hi! I didn't think you'd show up!"

"This is _my_ dining room," Elsa points out with a wry chuckle as she moves to take a seat among the other royals. The chair is held out and pushed in for her by one of the servers in their striking red jackets. She thanks the man who nods once before striding back out to the kitchens.

"Gerda told us you might forget," Anna leans in much too close to be proper and whispers in an undertone, nodding at the woman in question at the other end of the room speaking with a footman.

Elsa sighs out a soft breath at the princess' closeness. Her skin is abuzz and power begins to tickle at her fingers and the roots of her hair. She crushes it down with the usual mantra; _Don't feel, conceal, _that she and Father used to recite religiously_. _When she feels more in control she nods at Anna tersely and takes a heady gulp of wine.

"It was nice of you to invite us, Queen Elsa," Prince Kristoff says jovially. His large hands are braced on his thighs and he leans in as he speaks with the same exuberance as Anna. She can see the family resemblance in their actions already. It's in the way their smiles curl and their eyes light up.

"Please," Elsa says mildly, thanking a new server as she refills the queen's goblet with a polite nod. "Call me Elsa. This is a luncheon as friends. No titles."

They talk cheerfully about the splendour of the ball and the array of colourful nobles the prince and princess were acquainted with. It was their first diplomatic outing without their parents, Kristoff tells her, and they'd worried most of the night that they might inadvertently anger a nation or two and start a war. Elsa assures them modestly that they were a credit to the Winterlands and their king and queen. The identical grins she receives at the praise is more than worth it.

Besides, Prince Hans does not feature once in the conversation, much to Elsa's secret delight. Instead Anna and Kristoff spin an energetic tale with the Duke of Weasleton as the principal star. Elsa hides a laugh behind a gloved hand as Anna imitates the Duke's high tweedy voice and falling toupee.

Anna looks dazzling. Her cheeks are cherry red with glee, nose crinkling around a sprinkling of freckles Elsa aches to peck. "Say whatever you want about the Duke –" Anna interposes through Kristoff amusement and Elsa's daydreams, "But he's the reason Elsa and I met."

Kristoff's brow disappears in his hairline at the same moment that Elsa flushes pleasantly at the mention of her name. "You didn't tell me that," he says to Anna accusingly. "She didn't tell me that," he throws to Elsa with pointed finger.

Elsa merely laughs, holding her hands out in a placating gesture. "The Duke didn't so much introduce us as –"

"He threw me," Anna interjects sunnily, as though this was a habitual occurrence at Winterland gatherings. Maybe it was. Elsa wasn't all that well travelled. "Straight into Elsa with his _divine_ dancing."

The young prince whistles, impressed. "That's one way to befriend a queen I suppose."

* * *

After lunch Anna somehow convinces them all to go riding into the glades that encircle the castle walls. It's been a tragically extended stretch of time since the queen has been around any sort of horse and she mounts her steed with a distinct lack of finesse that thankfully neither of the siblings mention. Anna and Kristoff, it soon becomes apparent, are as at home on the back of a horse as they are on land. Maybe even more so. Elsa feels decidedly worse now about her lack of riding experience.

_The things one does to prevent tensions between trading partners_, she thinks.

It's a small comfort to remind herself that the Winterlands are famed for their horses – Clydesdale's mostly, as their thick coats and shaggy legs protect them from the harsh Winterland conditions. Trying to picture Anna riding one though is near to impossible. The other girl is _tiny. _All the same, Princess Anna is famed for her riding prowess. The gossip mill insists that the princess is so apt at the skill that an Italian thoroughbred trainer had requested an audience with the Winterlands King to implore the princess to ride one of his horses in the Epsom Derby in England.

They set off down the trails with Kristoff on point. He's riding bareback – _He's just a big show off_, Anna whispered to her as they were saddling their own horses – and humming a tune under his breath. Anna with her hair pulled back into a scruffy ponytail, having changed into riding breeches that have Elsa freezing parts of her reins in her clenched fists, is harmonizing with his humming and looking absolutely thrilled to be outside.

_This is to prevent tensions between trading partners_, she repeats uncertainly as her eyes roam across Anna's form, _yes that's it_.

"You're so lucky to have such beautiful summers," Anna says to her as Elsa hastens her horse to sidle up besides the princess, quite scarlet in the face. "In the Winterlands it either rains, sleets or snows."

"Sometimes it thunders," Kristoff adds helpfully.

His sister frowns at the back of his head for the interruption. "And sometimes it thunders," she concedes with an eye roll.

Elsa listens to them bicker in silent fascination. As an only child she's never experienced the playful banter Anna and Kristoff have perfected during their respective eighteen and twenty four years. It's unalike any sort of interaction Elsa has ever partaken in. It's rough and familiar and despite their squabbling Elsa can see they care deeply for one another. For people who come from such a frigid nation, the Winterland siblings are surprisingly warm.

"I bet I can get this old girl to go faster than all of you," Kristoff challenges after half an hour of slow trotting into the lush Arendelle countryside. He pats his mount's thick neck with a hand to illustrate his challenge.

Anna makes a disbelieving noise. She looks to Elsa with a mischievous glint in her eyes that makes the queen's throat extremely dry. "I will not stand for such insolence!" she replies snootily, "Elsa, are we going to let a boy beat us?"

"N-no?" Elsa croaks. She's not quite sure what Anna expects of her. She unconsciously stiffens her thighs around her horse in preparation for whatever it is.

"Let's crush him."

Elsa starts as Anna gives a Winterland battle cry (which sounds deceptively like; FOR KING, COUNTRY, AND CHOCOLATE!) and urges her horse into a full gallop. She blazes passed Kristoff whom only takes a moment before taking chase. Elsa snaps out of her momentary daze and takes off after the siblings praying to God that she won't fall off and _die_. It would be such an unseemly end for a queen. Especially after not even a full day of reign.

"WOOOHOOO!"

Anna looks magnificent. Taught, toned muscles brace against her riding shirt as she thunders ahead of them both with practiced ease. Watching her now makes Elsa believe the Italian story. It must be true. Anna is perfection on a horse.

Heat flares through Elsa like a wildfire, furious and all-consuming. Anna is glorious. Elsa cannot breathe.

"Look at Feisty-Pants go!" Kristoff hollers as Elsa catches up to him.

"She's … she's … she's really good," Elsa pants harshly. She's not used to this kind of exertion. Neither is her steed who breathes punitively under her. None of the Arendelle horses are bred for speed – most are dressage champions or war horse veterans that are passed their prime and enjoying their retirement.

"Best rider in all of the Winterlands!"

"I believe it."

They try to keep up with Anna's furious pace but the princess is anything if not spectacularly stubborn. This is further showcased by the Princess of the Winterlands, second in line to the throne and more precious to her Father than an armada of battleships or even his own throne, suddenly letting go of the reins and lifting herself out of the saddle like a trapeze artist. Kristoff groans at the display while Elsa can only watch in silent dread and unbridled wonder.

"She's going to fall!" she gasps.

"She's not," Kristoff soothes, "Keep watching."

Anna stands atop the moving beast and gingerly places one foot underneath the animal's moving shoulder blades and the other squarely near its flanks, letting her arms hang slightly in mid-air to steady her. It is with a sense of absolute awe that Elsa realizes Anna is unquestionably stark raving mad.

_Father should have probably prepared me for Winterland royal visits. _

Perhaps sensing the loss of Anna's lithe weight on the saddle, the horse slows into a slow canter with Anna still standing atop his back with the most triumphant grin one could wear after successfully having surfed atop a horse. She narrows her eyes playfully at her brother as he and Elsa stop her horse's strides with their own mounts – blocking the rest of the path from him. He huffs and Anna cheers, balancing her weight evenly.

"I win!" she crows, winking at Elsa who is still visibly shaken from the spectacle.

"Idiot," Kristoff proclaims with a wholehearted laugh, petting Anna's horses flank.

Everything happens very quickly from there. The horse spooks at the foreign touch and bucks, launching Anna off of his back. Elsa reacts instantaneously as Anna closes her eyes and grits her teeth to prepare for the impact her skull will make against the hard ground. But the princess never gets that far. Instead she lands in a soft pile of … snow.

The glade falls silent. Birds have hushed; the trees no longer creak in the wind; the horse's laboured breaths seem to come from a great distance.

The princess heaves into a sitting position, wincing a little as muscles protest the movement, and cups a hand full of snow in confusion. She then looks to her brother. He is not looking at her in return. Instead his frightened gaze is set firmly on the queen. Anna turns her attention to Elsa and her whole body stills in revelation.

Elsa's arm is thrown out in front of her, fingers splayed, and her eyes dark eyes are wide with panic and horror at what she has done.

She and Anna lock gazes, both stunned.

_She's the one who conjured the snow._

"What ... I mean - You're a witch?!" Kristoff exclaims, breaking the spell. His hands find purchase in his unruly blonde hair which becomes even more dishevelled.

The word sparks a reaction in Elsa at last. Her breathing becomes choppy in alarm. Snow begins to engulf the grass at their feet and spread to neighbouring trees. It eats everything in its path without mercy. Elsa can now see her breath in the frigid air. The horror in her veins never wanes for a single moment.

She cannot believe this will be how it all ends. Elsa cannot believe the secret her forefathers have lived in fear of has finally come to pass.

"Elsa …"

Anna is struggling to her feet to reach her. One of her arms is outstretched and she battles through the sudden wind that materializes, hurtling into them with force. Around them, in all of Arendelle, a terrible storm begins to brew.

"I'm sorry," Elsa screams into the roar. She chokes on the words, tearing up. "I'm sorry."

Her horse rears back and gallops away from the Winterland siblings with Elsa still firmly attached to his back, spooked by the weather. The queen lets him, crying into his frost coated mane as the world around them becomes coated in snow and ice. She has failed her royal line. She has failed Arendelle. She has failed her father.

The prophecy has begun.

Anna's cries for her are drowned out by the snowstorm.

* * *

A/N: The Epsom Derby was inaugurated in 1780 as a celebration race run after the Oaks Stakes in 1779. Anna and her father are big thoroughbred racing junkies and experimented with Clydesdale x Thoroughbred breeding. The results were disastrous and Anna doesn't like to talk about it to this day. Neither does her father. Or the Winterlands stable hands. Or anyone at all for that matter.

So there you have it, another Monday another chapter. You'll notice that Elsa is less of a hermit in this fic than in the canon world. It's due in part to the fact that she couldn't actively avoid her father. She had to learn from him as the Crown Princess. Her control is much better than canon Elsa but she's still terrified of her powers. And by letting loose here, she's started something she can't control. Hence, eternal winter 5ever.

Again, thank you to anyone who has read, favourited, followed or reviewed.

Review Responses:

juancarlos-valdezmedina: Thank you, Astrid is rather charming! Hans won't have a big role in this story, so Hans haters can put away the pitchforks.

SpicaCygnus: Awkward Elsa around children is always ace.

Rose: Gerda is quite literally the embarrassing mother Elsa unknowingly always wanted. She's respectful to the crown but with a dash of "Elsa what are ya doin' gurl?" that just makes her so endearing to me.

Guest: Astrid scores a 10 on the cuteness scale for sure. And Elsa a 20 whenever she awkwardly tries to mother the little tyke.

shan-shannon: Well, you're a wonderful reader!

FanOfAction: I own my own business and go to university full-time so trying to find the time to write is a challenge! I'll try to elongate as much as possible but I'm afraid I'm a limited writer, sorry. The updates will keep coming though!

P6006873: Anna is the princess of the Winterlands. They're Arendelle's leading trading partner for ice and fur. We'll discover a little more about the country in later chapters and some geography and other titbits.

ShadowWolfBeast: Elsa has a lot of internal scars we'll get to see that explain why she's hesitant to get too close to Astrid both physically and mentally. She loves her daughter of course, but does most of her gushing to dignitaries when Astrid is out of earshot, or when she's asleep. Spoiler; she gets over it. Eventually.

Yuiiub: Thank you!

Guest: She's a cutie for sure.

Lauren H 91: Astrid doesn't have powers. The powers can't be passed down. The whole backstory to the powers will be revealed in later chapters. Although I had to admit I did flirt with the idea a little!

Yasetsu: I'm afraid Astrid isn't named after Astrid from HTTYD. Astrid's full name is actually Princess Astrid Eir the VII. Anna named their daughter Astrid after Elsa's great-great-great grandmother, the first reigning Queen of Arendelle. Her portraits were strewn about the castle and, being naturally curious and quite unapologetically Anna, she had Elsa tell her everything she knew about the Queen. Elsa picked Eir, which translates to "mercy". This was also the name of a Norse goddess of healing and medicine. Elsa picked it specifically because she understood her daughter was her second chance. Astrid was going to heal her. Astrid was going to show her the mercy Elsa was never able to give herself.

X: Elsa's relationship with Astrid is complicated but love thaws!

IcedHearts: Thank you, what a compliment! Astrid always seeks Elsa out in one way or another, even under the guise of hearing a story.

eager reader: Thanks! Hope you enjoyed this latest chapter.

Tripower: Thank you very much!

Jaely: I never pictured Elsa as the nurturing type. She's just a little too hesitant and years of fear don't shake off that easily. Being a parent scares Elsa to the core but she struggles to be better for Astrid. And yes! That always bothered me too! I couldn't fathom having Anna and Elsa having anything other than a girl - although one could argue that Elsa did create Olaf (who identifies as a boy). That said, reproductive organs aren't as easily moulded as snow and I like to think that Elsa's magic is just physics on drugs. And even physics on drugs need to bow down to biology. We'll get to see more of Astrid and Elsa's relationship in later chapters. I wasn't thinking of delving too deeply into the outside world (save for the exception of learning more about the Winterlands) or it's inner workings but I might start a Tumblr to show the backdrop to the story, maybe?

WarThunder: Thank you!


	5. A Mother's Solemn Promise

Chapter V

A Mother's Solemn Promise

* * *

"The horse took me far away from Arendelle. We couldn't see anything through the blizzard but he kept running. _We_ kept running. I suppose part of me never wanted the running to stop." Elsa let her fingers tangle in Astrid's blonde hair. Even after all these years it was still painful to resurrect the memory. She could still feel the wind against her face, the horse's fretful wheezing.

She glanced down when no reaction was forthcoming to see the little girl had fallen asleep. Elsa's face loosened from its rigid expression, softening considerably at the sight. Astrid's mouth was open. She was drooling too and clutching Sir Bjorg to her thin little chest like her life depended on it. Elsa's heart gave an almost painful lurch of emotion and she smiled tenderly down at her heir.

"Sleep well, my baby," she whispered, kissing the top of the girl's head. She pulled Astrid into her arms and slid out of bed quietly, padding into the hallway towards the princess's room.

Once inside she laid the child on the bed and tucked her in, carefully rearranging the army of soft toys at her side the way she knew Astrid liked best. She and Anna had been on the tail end of Astrid's scolding enough to know. She watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, the fluttering of her eyelashes as she dreamt and the scrunch of her nose. She was the most beautiful thing Elsa had ever made. Had ever _helped_ to make – such perfection could not have been achieved without Anna. Anna, who against all odds, always made everything better.

She tucked a few stray tendrils of hear behind Astrid's ear. "Mommy loves you very much, Astrid. I'm sorry if I don't show or tell you that enough." Astrid did not stir at the words.

Elsa tried to see herself from that little girl's point of view. To Astrid, Elsa wasn't Queen. She was Mother. She wasn't the commanding authority of the land. Only bedtime. But she _was_ intimidating. A stern glare from Elsa could make Astrid clam up and words die in her throat. A strict word of reprimand had her daughter cowering and sputtering apologies.

Astrid loved her, undoubtedly. But Astrid feared her on some level.

Elsa swore quietly under her breath. The profanity was so unlike her – her lips curled in distaste almost immediately after it escaped.

She studied her hands. They grasped at the thin material of her night shirt, knotting uneasily. The hands were rougher and stronger. Ice didn't spark from her fingertips to the tune of her emotions any more. Yet the thought of the power laying sated under her skin still made her uncomfortable. Made her nervous to lose control and have Astrid feel the brunt of the curse she was born with. It had never come to that, thankfully. Perhaps due to some semi-dormant desire for self - preservation on Astrid's part, or simply because Elsa wasn't around all that often. Astrid had never been subjected to the icy touch of Elsa's frost.

_And she never will_, Elsa thought ferociously.

She blew out the candle lighting on the bedside, plunging the room into darkness.

* * *

"Honey, you should really eat something." Anna pointed to the assortment of food laid out on the table with a fork between her own mouthfuls. The servers were still milling about in their red jackets, filling their glasses with juice (Anna) and coffee (Elsa). She couldn't understand why Elsa had her head pressed against the wood, grumbling to herself. She'd been like that since they'd awoken.

"Don't want to."

The Queen Consort frowned as she buttered her toast, keeping one eye trained on Elsa as she did. "At least tell me what's bothering you."

Elsa persisted in her silence. She folded her arms over her head to block out the world and groaned anew. She'd scarcely slept last night. Dreams – memories really – had invaded her thoughts until dawn. Now she was tired, ill-tempered, and about to face an entire day of trade meetings. Another grunt ripped from her throat at the thought. A server at her elbow almost tripped over his boots at the sound. He paled and Anna watched him all but sprint away back to the kitchens in pure humiliation.

"Elsa, relax. The meetings won't be that bad; if that's what you're worried about. I've gone over most of the re-written agreements with the Lord's last week. You just have to sit on your throne and look as magnificent as always while they talk."

Elsa perked up slightly at her wife's voice. Her head raised a fraction to see blue eyes peering at her in fond exasperation.

"You think I look magnificent?" she replied shyly, a pleased grin beginning to form. Anna always seemed to know what to say.

Her queen winked slyly and –

"Hi there!" a voice cried gleefully from the entryway before the woman could respond.

Anna catapulted herself out of her chair before Elsa could even blink. She ran to a little snowman whose own arms were held out widely to receive the queen's exuberant hug. "OLAF!" her wife cried, almost bowling him over. "You're back!"

"Yeah! Marshmallow needed his space." He waved elatedly at Elsa over Anna's shoulder. "He says hi!"

"It's nice to have you home, Olaf. Astrid missed you," Elsa said.

"I missed her too." Olaf grinned up at Anna. His eyes blinked in rapid succession. "Has the baby come yet? I always wanted to see a baby horse!"

"He has," Anna laughed, petting his snowy head dotingly. "Why don't you go wake up Astrid and you can go down and see him before her lessons."

"Okay," he agreed happily, scampering back out of the room to find his pseudo little sister. They heard a crash outside – that sounded suspiciously like magical snow ploughing head first into a priceless suit of armour – before hearing an inquisitive, "Woah! Who put that there?"

Elsa took Olaf's cue and stood from the table. Anna was looking at her worriedly again, like she'd sprouted three heads. "I should probably get to the Council Chamber."

Anna nodded. "Okay." She walked over to place a soft kiss on her wife's lips, studying her when they parted and smoothing out the creases of Elsa's jacket. "You sure you're okay?"

Elsa did not have to feign the smile that rose naturally at Anna's closeness. "I'm fine. Just a long day ahead of me."

"Remember, just look—"

"Magnificent," Elsa finished for Anna with a charmed look. "I know." She kissed her once more for luck. "I love you and I'll see you at lunch."

* * *

She'd missed lunch.

The meetings had dragged on until dusk. Every Lord wanted his piece heard and agreed upon by the Queen of Arendelle. Any attempts at adjourning the audience were thwarted by debates and arguments flourishing into being and shouted out across the grand table. Elsa had decided finally, after numerous efforts to quell the rising tensions in the room, to simply watch the Lords hash out their differences. In all, the entire debacle had been mildly entertaining.

"How dare you speak of my mother in such a way!" Lord Debussy roared at Lord Rachmaninoff who made a move to launch across the table and start a scuffle. It certainly wasn't the first time and Elsa would wager it wouldn't be the last, either.

"Gentlemen," Elsa sighed. The sound of their monarch's voice did not halt the men like she'd hoped it might. "Could we please show a little dignity?" she said under the swell of voices.

The sound of the doors opening, however, did make them pause. Kai strode in with poise and pride, something the Lords had been lacking during the course of the day, chin held aloft and one gloved hand clasped behind his back. He nodded at the Lord's; many of them were in various states of unkemptness. Elsa hid a laugh with a hand.

"Presenting Her Royal Highness, Princess Astrid of Arendelle."

Astrid walked in timidly under several pairs of eyes after the Chamberlain's announcement, biting her lower lip softly and dressed in her prettiest pink nightgown. Her hair was down and brushed with care, by Anna's hand no doubt. Elsa smiled tenderly at her daughter's appearance and looked to the Lords. Most of them were dipping their torsos in dutiful bows at their princess's arrival.

"Good evening, Astrid," she said from her chair. "What do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

The little girl's eyes lighted at her mother's warm reception and she curtsied cutely, holding the edges of her nightgown. "Have you finished your meeting, Mom?" Elsa arched an eyebrow at the Lords in clear irritation, as though to say 'see what you've done? You've kept me from this little creature'.

"Could you come and tuck me in?"

Elsa held the warmth the words evoked in her close to her heart. "Gentlemen," she said clearly. They straightened at her tone of voice – clear, concise and leaving no room for argument. "Queen Anna will meet with you in a fortnight. This meeting is adjourned. The princess and I have urgent matters to attend to." She winked then and delighted in Astrid's incredulous giggle. Mom was going to tuck her in. Mom was actually going to tuck her in!

Elsa rose to her full height and swept out of the room with Astrid skipping giddily after her. Kai nodded at the men. "My Lords," he said, before hurrying after his queen and princess.

"Thank you for coming to get me," Elsa said in a thankful rush to Astrid as they ascended the stairs to the first floor. She didn't think she could have lasted a minute longer surrounded by pompous noblemen and their tufty moustaches. Astrid's interruption had come at just the right moment.

"No problem, Mom," Astrid hummed. She rushed ahead and let her sock clad feet skate on the marble floor, giggling like a lunatic. She chose to tactfully ignore her mother's request for her to slow down lest she hurt herself. The queen sighed amusedly and shook her head.

"She's something else, isn't she?" Elsa murmured to Kai as he fell into step beside her. Her eyes were trained on Astrid as the girl raced down the hallway bound for her room. She narrowly missed knocking into a handmaiden who shrieked in terror of the princess and managed to drop her linen basket.

"She reminds me of someone at that age," the man said. Elsa turned her head to regard his profile. Together they paid no mind to the handmaiden, busy in the act of retrieving her fallen linen basket, dropping into a low curtsy as they walked passed. Elsa made a gentle gesture with her hand for the woman to rise.

"Really? Whom?"

He smiled and laughed softly to himself, shaking his head a little. "A little princess who used to pelt us with snow at every turn."

Elsa blushed minutely at her Chamberlain's cackles and rolled her eyes good naturedly. "I stopped that nonsense almost immediately if you'll recall, Kai." She waved at Astrid to continue on. The little girl stood by the doorframe of her room hopping from one foot to the other impatiently.

The man sobered. "Yes. But only because of your father."

Elsa's lips thinned and she bent her head so he would not see the pain in her eyes at the memory. It still cut deep, and she still suffered the pain of it. Thankfully, they'd reached Astrid's open door and she entered without Kai, dismissing him with a breathy "That will be all, thank you." He bowed dutifully and left, his eyes expressing his silent apologies for his words. Elsa tried not to think of it and directed her attention to the one person who deserved it most.

Astrid was already under the covers, sitting up and bouncing slightly against the mattress in her exuberance. "You don't look even a little tired," Elsa accused in jest. She sat on the edge of the bed and fluffed Astrid's pillow. Sir Bjorg stood proudly to attention on the mattress and she smiled down at the little dog. It was the first toy Elsa had ever gifted Astrid.

Astrid had been born during a horrendous storm that had almost drowned out Anna's pain-filled cries and groans. The rain had pelted down on the turrets in a dull roar that had heightened rather than soothed Elsa's frazzled nerves. The port had also been battered by a blustery wind that had sent the hardiest of their fishermen and skippers ducking for cover in taverns and ale-houses. Many had called it the storm of the century. Anna and Elsa only remembered it as their daughter's birthday.

Astrid came to the world to the colossal applause of lighting and thunder. Anna had wept with relief and passion as the midwives lay the baby on her soft and trembling belly. Meanwhile, Elsa stood in stunned silence by the window streaked with raindrops. It was only once Astrid had cried that she'd moved towards her wife and child, quite dazed.

She'd lingered there for a moment, kneeling by the bedside with her chin leaning on Anna's shoulder. She whispered lovingly to her wife, kissing her, thanking her for this gift, layering Astrid's wet and scrunched forehead with doting pressed of her lips, skimming her careful fingers across the wispy blonde hairs on the baby's head. Then, an idea had gripped her. It refused to be pushed aside.

She leapt from the bedside and sprinted out of the room to the confusion of the attending physicians and most importantly Anna. She tore out of the castle and saddled a horse into town despite Kai and Gerda's cries for her to remain with her family. Everyone had been worried she'd take flight – much like she had during the incidents preceding the Great Thaw.

Their fears went unfounded.

An hour later, she reappeared in the royal bedroom – drenched to the bone and protecting a small bundle under her cloak. Gerda fretted at the door, pointing at the puddles the sovereign was making on the carpet with almost hostile indignation. She was gently pushed out by the midwives and the door closed behind them, leaving the queen's and the new princess alone. Elsa thus presented the dry little dog with his tiny knitted helmet and sword to Anna, grinning proudly at her accomplishment. Her hair had been plastered to her face, wild and unkempt but Anna had only stared at her in silent awe before nudging the dog close to the little baby with a wet sniffle.

Sir Bjorg had not left Astrid's side since.

"I want to hear more of the story! Did Momma go after you? Did you come home?"

"Hold on – Astrid, calm down." Elsa tried to reign in the little girl as she babbled and flailed. "Sweetheart, take a breath!"

Astrid took a greedy gulp of air and stopped dead. Her big blue eyes were round with trepidation, fearing that she'd crossed some invisible line with the queen. Her worries ebbed a little at Elsa's amused chuckle.

"Momma will have to tell you the next part of the story I'm afraid," Elsa said a tad regretfully. "I just hid in the North Mountain feeling very sorry for myself. Momma did all the heroic deeds."

Astrid gasped. Mom had said the magic words. "Like a gallant knight?"

Elsa tried not to blush at the invented image of her wife decked out in a full military uniform with a sword at her hip, ready to defend her honour. There was something rather exciting about Anna in the role. She made a mental note to revisit this at a later stage. "Yes, exactly like a gallant knight."

Astrid's excitement died however when she realized she'd have to wait for the next part of the tale. She frowned. A little crease settled between her blonde eyebrows which made the corner of Elsa's mouth quirk. "So I have to wait?" The concept seemed too abstract for her to grasp.

"I'm afraid so," Elsa murmured drolly. She kissed Astrid's forehead. "How about I clear my schedule tomorrow and we can have a storybook day? Just the three of us in the palace gardens. We could even have a picnic if you'd like."

"Can Olaf come too?"

Elsa didn't see why not and Astrid beamed at her. "But right now it's time for little princess' to go to sleep."

"Okay, Mom," Astrid whispered around a yawn. She settled down peacefully, reached for Sir Bjorg and let her eyes droop. "Will you stay with me before I fall asleep?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

She pulled herself next to her daughter and listened to the steady rhythm of Astrid's breathing as it evened out. Her eyes fixed on a corner of the ceiling and did not deviate, even as memories of her father and – she clenched her fists – ice surfaced.

* * *

"ELSA!"

Elsa's doesn't stop sobbing even at her mother's cry. She's sitting over her father's fallen body, grasping the lapels of his jacket to rouse him awake. He doesn't stir or wrap an arm around her trembling shoulders. Instead he lays on a cushion of snow in the transformed Great Hall - deathly pale and breathing faintly.

"Akthar!" the Queen screeches. She trips over her nightgown and sprawls to the floor before crawling the rest of the way, ignoring Elsa as the girl yelps, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!"

She watches her mother breakdown. It's a sight that she remembers for the rest of her life ...

* * *

A/N: Another Monday, another chapter. And for all of you waiting for the 'M' rating to finally come to pass ... I hope you won't be disappointed by the upcoming smut in the next chapter.

If you have any questions about the world, the characters, or any part of the story feel free to cruise over to my tumblr page (the url should be on my profile) and I'll try my very best to describe all this useless background information that has been swimming around in my head for months.

And again, thank you to anyone who has read, favourited, followed and reviewed.

Review Responses:

FanOfAction: The list of people who know about Elsa's power comprise of a select few individuals. Kai, Gerda, and a few members of the Queen's Personal Guard. We'll get a lot more information on Elsa's powers and what this means for Arendelle.

juancarlos-valdezmedina: True, Elsa and Anna's relationship is advancing a little slowly. Although, is that really surprising? Anna and Elsa have just met - yes there was an initial attraction between both girls - but they know almost nothing about each other. And now Anna has to come to terms with Elsa suddenly being able to wield ice and snow? A lot to take in in such a short amount of time. And in later chapters she's will have to make a very difficult decision. There may or may not be a scene in the works with Kristoff and toddler Astrid ...

Claire Cooper: Well I am very glad that you took a chance on me (ABBA begins to magically play). Yes, the tone for this particular story struck me as well. It's unlike anything I've ever written before. Again I have to say I'm so glad people have been so welcoming of Astrid. I was initially worried that the validity of her conception might be questioned. But I keep turning back to Olaf and Marshmallow as examples with steadfast resolution. Thank you again for giving this humble little story a chance.

Electra Red: Although the Elsa/Anna interaction was limited in this chapter brace yourself for next Monday.

xRoseThorn: Rose! You've become one of us! Hi! The battle cry struck me during work actually and I laughed so hard I think I may have worried some people. Elsa in denial is particularly funny. Jealous Elsa is still my favourite though. She looks so petulant in my head.

FaythHymns: Well, in Kristoff's defence if someone did magic in front of me I'd probably call them a witch too. Something tells me you won't particularly care for Kristoff ... though he does redeem himself later.

Yuiiub: Hope you enjoyed this latest instalment, and thank you for the praise.

Guest: I read that in Gretchen Wieners' voice.

Lauren H 91: I have back-stories for almost everything. It's a ridiculous exercise really but I kind of enjoy fleshing out the world in my head. There's still going to be a lot angsting (unfortunately) but I promise it'll be worth it all in the end!

Yasetsu: I'm full of fun facts, lol. Kristoff ... is kind of a jerk. But a well-meaning jerk. He's full of 'I have to be the responsible first in line to the throne and have to do what's right' that makes him out to be kind of a jerk. You'll eventually warm up to him.

Guest: Boys are dumb, throw magical snowballs at them.

ShadowWolfBeast: All good things come to an end! But now we get to see more Anna/Kristoff interactions and the history of Arendelle. So, that's kind of exciting.

Jaely: Anna won't bop Kristoff upside the head because secretly she was kind of wondering the same thing. I mean, who doesn't think witch if they see someone do magic in their day and age? But Kristoff will get get to apologize and later redeem himself. We'll get to see more Anna and Elsa in the next chapter so stay tuned.

Baku babe: I am a big fan of HTTYD (in fact, I wrote one of the first oneshots for the fandom which to this day is still my most popular oneshot) but I picked Astrid's name very carefully. It had to sound strong but mean something gentle. Of course I've read 'A Formal Arrangement'. Who hasn't? I did notice we have similar ideas but they're not all that uncommon in other stories. Anyway, HIMYM-Frozen and AFA are going down completely different paths. It's ridiculous to even think this little story is even on the same level as AFA.


	6. Regrets Of The Darkest Kind

Chapter VI

Regrets Of The Darkest Kind

* * *

An eight year old Elsa rouses awake at a knock against her bedroom door. Sitting up groggily she rubs at a sleep encrusted eye, wondering whom it is that has summoned her at such an ungodly hour. A quick glance out the large triangular window that spans the length of the far wall reveals that night is still upon her beloved Arendelle. She is not expected at breakfast until a little after dawn and makes to burrow back into her warm covers before another knock resounds.

It is her father who ducks his head in, clearly up to no good. He winks mischievously at Elsa as her head rises from the pillow. He's still wearing his uniform (he only ever wears his uniform if he has a meeting with the Lords) so Elsa deduces that he has not yet retired to bed and instead has come straight from the Council Chamber.

She's vaulting out of bed and snatching a robe before he's even opened his mouth.

"Okay?" he says, cracking the door a little wider. Soft candlelight filters in from the hallway.

"Okay!" she answers, giggling.

He takes her hand and they walk quietly down the hall and descend the staircase to the Great Hall. Elsa beams all the while. She loves their midnight excursions when her father lets her do as she pleases without the queen racing in to stop their shenanigans. Her mother is always so … so - _testy_ when it comes to her powers. Father is more accommodating by far, and only claps and praises her.

Elsa's free hand clenches and unclenches in anticipation.

They slip into the Hall and her father gestures grandly to the high ceilings and granite floor as if to say, "Do as you please." She looks to him excitedly, barely showing restraint before she's rushing about the room shooting bursts of magic into the air. It's been weeks since their last midnight jaunt. She has energy and magic to _burn_. Stores of it in fact, that threatened to well up but abated at one of Mother's soft glares when the latter recognised her daughter's particular expression. Fat overdue droplets of snow begin to fall and the king guffaws in pure admiration as he holds his palms out to catch the drifting snowflakes.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Elsa crows from the other end of the Great Hall by her mother and father's thrones. "Watch this!"

King Akthar watches as his tiny eight year old's face scrunches in concentration before she taps her foot against the floor with poignant finality. He feels his own weight shift in response and glances down in astonishment to find the floor covered in ice. Real solid ice. His heeled boots slide along the glassy surface as his body wobbles precociously, much like the flagpoles atop the castle during the gales.

"This is amazing, Elsa!" he exclaims catching himself in time before he falls over. "You've gotten better since the last time."

"Yep," she agrees. She's skipping across the ice now and tugging on his arm to help him move. King Akthar crouches and lets himself be pulled along by the little girl, smartly overlooking how ridiculous he must look. He allows them to play in the snow for an hour – making snow angels and throwing snowballs at each other. The king's hearty laugh and the princess's high chime like giggle echo and bounce off the high walls and ceiling. Elsa has never been happier.

She gets carried away in her enthusiasm.

"Daddy, catch!" She lets a burst of ice fly from her outstretched fingers in an attempt to make a giant snowball appear over her father's head.

But the giant snowball never materializes.

Her father doesn't laugh and brush melting snow from his epaulettes.

Instead the ice hits her father's temple and he crumples over with a groan. Much later, as Elsa huddles outside her parent's bedroom door and an old troll shuffles passed and touches the child's head with a bittersweet smile, Kai will tell Elsa softly that her screams alerted the guards and the queen in time. Elsa will not remember having uttered a word at all.

* * *

Anna moaned lowly for Elsa. Her neck strained in its offer of more skin to kiss, more space in which Elsa's nose could skim across her tendon and then bite down oh so gently. Her hands found purchase in her wife's deliciously unruly hair and fisted at it, desperately trying to contain Elsa to that one spot that never failed to make her melt. The queen submitted to the silent demand and continued her assault, one hand busy at her wife's breast.

Their skin was slick with sweat and cum. They'd been at this for hours with Elsa leaving Anna little respite during rounds. Thankfully Astrid had not stirred nor made the short trip from her bedroom down the hall to her mothers' chambers like she was prone to do. Even if she had, Elsa wasn't sure that she and Anna would have even heard the door creak open to announce their daughter's entrance – so lost were they in each other.

She flicked a painfully erect nipple with an icy finger and smirked as she kissed the base of Anna's throat – feeling the rumble in the cry that it elicited. Anna was panting now, her hips lifting and trying to connect with Elsa's.

"_E-Elsa_," Anna croaked. One of her hands clutched at the space between the other woman's moving shoulder blades to anchor herself.

"Yes, my Queen?" Elsa moaned out, shifting to be able to whisper the breathy words directly in her wife's ear. It elicited a full body shiver out of the Queen Consort. Her hand trailed along the hard planes of Anna's stomach – the muscles jumping at the touch.

"I _need_ you." Anna grabbed her face and angled it down so that she could see quite clearly how much her wife lusted after her. Her pupils were blown wide and her bottom lip trembled with the force of her arousal. Elsa had to close her own eyes for a moment to savour the image and imprint it beneath her eyelids.

"Again, my Queen?" Elsa dropped her head, letting her tongue dart and lick a tiny swipe against her wife's parted lips. Anna trembled viciously at the action, mewling in displeasure when Elsa retreated. "I should think you've had enough. It's close to dawn."

Anna made a keening mewl when Elsa slithered down the length of her body, kissing along her sternum and passed her navel. She was muttering inaudibly, delighting at Elsa's sudden change of heart. The Queen of Arendelle nuzzled at her hipbone and let her warmed hands palm Anna's thighs, groaning softly in the hushed safety of their royal bedroom at the sight Anna presented.

"Will the mother of my child please fuck me already?" Anna growled and then squeaked when she felt Elsa's warm breath on her centre, so _close_. She hiked her pelvis forward to receive the monarch's mouth or fingers or _anything_. She was in a frenzy of want and Elsa's rebuttal and throaty chuckle at her impatience wasn't helping to quell the building hunger.

"When you put it like that …"

Elsa finally lowered her mouth to where Anna needed it most. The cry that ripped from the Queen Consort's throat was music to the other woman's ears. Only _she_ had the right to evoke such a reaction from her wife. And with that thought in mind she lapped steadily at Anna's entrance – now and again letting the tip of her tongue circle an engorged bud. The action didn't fail in its intended purpose; Anna cried out at the pleasure and clutched at the back of Elsa's head with both hands to keep that tongue where it was needed most.

When Anna began to writhe in earnest and croak out a few pleasure filled utterances of her name and how much she loved her, Elsa knew her wife was nearing her end. So she did what any good spouse would do when their wife was on the edge of oblivion. She lay one more doting kiss against Anna's throbbing clit and then let her tongue slide gently, reverently, into the hot tight channel of Anna's entrance. Both women groaned at the intrusion.

Elsa pumped her tongue in Anna in time with the other woman's undulating hips. The pace was steady and erotic. The warmth and moans erupting from her wife were wreaking havoc on the queen. She could feel herself dripping across the sheets at the feel of Anna, the smell of her, the taste of her. The heat of it spread along her limbs lighting her very nearly on fire.

Anna was lost. Frenzied and on the edge of something grand. Her walls pulsed and throbbed around her wife's delightful tongue and she began to call out for Elsa to end it all. "Elsa, Elsa, Elsa, Elsaaaaaaaaa!" The chant ended in a high pitched whine of pleasure. The queen smirked as she placed soft decelerating kisses against Anna's lips, clit, curls. Her fingers swirled little intricate patterned circles against milky thighs as the Queen Consort trembled through her orgasm and clenched a fist in Elsa's hair, groaning at her wife's ministrations.

"Mmmm," Elsa moaned, licking her lips one final time. She made the short journey up Anna's body and plopped down quite unceremoniously with a large Cheshire grin, her own arousal abating at the look of contented bliss on her wife's face. "You came really hard," she whispered roguishly.

"I did." Anna blew a breath to dislodge a strand of hair that had fall over her eyes. Elsa's smile grew tenfold at the action.

"_Really_ hard."

"Yes, I realize." Anna let a hand splay on Elsa's rear possessively and kissed her throat before her head hit the pillow in pure exhaustion. "I can't feel my legs."

"Mmm, I love you."

Anna had just closed her eyes, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before dawn broke over the mountains and summoned them to another frantic day of work. Elsa had attacked her – yes attacked was probably the most apt word to use – after putting Astrid down for the evening. She'd only seen Elsa so wild a handful of times. Anna had been offered no rest. Instead she'd been abruptly taken on every available surface in their room as Elsa crooned lovely dirty things in her ear.

She opened one eye to regard her wife. The admission was not out place. Elsa had never been shy in showering her with affection or declarations of her love, but there was a resonance in the words tonight that didn't sit right with the Queen Consort. It felt like Elsa was saying it like she expected Anna to leap out of the bed and head for the hills.

"Elsa?" she whispered, cupping one of the queen's cheeks. She was shocked to find that Elsa was crying. "What's wrong, honey?"

Wordlessly Elsa placed a trembling hand under Anna's left shoulder. There was a small scar etched there, translucent against Anna's pale skin. It was a jaggedly etched line like a crack in an old wall. The sight of it always made shame and guilt roll around in Elsa's stomach until she felt sick.

"You know I love it," Anna said quietly, her eyes trained on Elsa's hand on her skin. She could feel her wife shaking. "It's your mark on me –"

"A mark made in temper and fear," Elsa said hoarsely. The words sounded rehearsed. And indeed they were; Anna had heard them time and time again.

"Fear fuelled by love," Anna bit back. Her eyes rose to her wife's face; Elsa's eyes were closed tightly and she was biting her bottom lip so ferociously Anna worried she might draw blood. "Now tell me what's wrong."

Elsa opened her mouth uselessly before coughing out an angry sigh. She dropped her lips to Anna's scar and kissed it reverently, apologetically. Anna held Elsa close in response and kissed her temple a few tired times, hoping to soothe whatever turmoil was brewing in her. Elsa's attention on the scar lasted a long minute before she calmed in her sorrow and laid her head down.

"It was something Kai said to me." Elsa rested her ear over the scar and inadvertently smiled when she heard the rapid thump-thump-thump of Anna's heart. The sound had lulled and comforted her to sleep more times than she could care to remember. "About my powers and Father."

Anna made a sympathetic sound. Elsa had told her of the incident with her father many years ago, atop the North Mountain. The information had been hurled at her – a warning for Anna to leave lest she suffer the same fate. She knew it had affected Elsa in ways Anna might never comprehend, but she had always been quietly thankful their relationship had evolved to a place where Elsa felt like she could at least speak about it with her now. In her own choppy convoluted way.

"What if I unintentionally hurt Astrid?" she uttered quietly. "I don't think I could live with myself if …"

"You won't," Anna said adamantly. She caressed Elsa's hair in gentle motions meant to soothe and felt the tension ebb slowly from her wife's body. "You've mastered your powers, Elsa. You could never hurt our daughter. I don't believe it."

"I'm still scared," Elsa admitted quietly. It was her greatest fear vocalized. Hurting Astrid like she'd hurt her father. Like she'd hurt Anna. She kissed the scar again, willing Anna to feel how intolerably sorry she was for the agony she had caused.

"I'm scared of a lot of things." Anna raised her free hand, the one that wasn't busy caressing Elsa's damp back, and began her countdown. "Spiders, getting sick, the dark, getting lost, bears … but not once have I ever been scared of you or of you hurting Astrid. Not once."

"Not once?" Elsa sounded so incredulous. She raised herself up on her forearms to regard her wife with an open and inquisitive expression.

Anna smiled up at her. "Not once. I love you, Elsa. I know you. Just trust me on this, okay?"

Elsa paused. Moonlight splintered on her face and made her dark eyes glitter in the gloom. "Okay." She touched her lips to Anna's in a soft meaningful brush.

* * *

"Wait, what?"

"I said I gave us the day off."

Anna blinked sceptically. "But you _never_ take the day off."

They were sitting in Elsa's study later that morning; the queen behind her desk and Anna on the settee by the kindling fireplace. Most of Elsa's attention was on the letter she was writing to Princess Rapunzel of Corona about their upcoming visit for the new prince's baptism. Hence her proclamation of their leave had been muttered out in a rather understated way, which is why it took Anna a moment of reflection before it stuck.

Elsa dipped her quill in the inkwell and glanced at her wife mildly. "I know. I just thought we could use a day off to be together as a family. If that displeases you I can certainly—"

"NO!" The outburst made Elsa jump. "It's a great idea! We really need the break."

"Glad that's settled," Elsa remarked absent mindedly. She missed Anna's blinding smile and the way her wife was looking at her. As though she were a treasure to be marvelled at.

Anna got to her feet and patted her skirt down with a pleased hum. The sound made Elsa smile into her parchment. "I'll get Astrid up and ready for the day," Anna exclaimed striding to Elsa's side and kissing her cheek. Elsa made a non-committal noise of approval as she wrote.

Anna waltzed out of the room in a giddy rush. The sight made Elsa's heart clench. They really needed to do this more often. It wouldn't do to have the entire royal family breakdown from stress and work overload. And above all it made Anna happy. How many times had she implored the queen to clear her schedule and just spend time with them?

A knock sounded, interrupting her musings. "Hiiiiiiii!"

"Yes?" she asked, looking up from her writing. Her eyebrows rose at the new apparition. "Oh, Olaf. How are you?"

The little snowman waddled in with a cheery grin, his personal flurry shadowing him as always. "Wonderful," he breathed airily, clasping his little twig hands together in front of his rotund body. "I just passed Anna in the hallway and she said you're taking a day off!"

"We are." She put her writing utensils down. "You will be joining us, won't you? Astrid would be thrilled."

The snowman guffawed happily, clapping his hands together. "Of course! Oh I can't _wait_! What will we be doing? Will we go into town? Oh it's beautiful this time of year. All the vendors and their stalls and children and flowers and _sunshine_!"

"What about a picnic in the castle gardens?" she said, shifting uneasily at the thought of going into town. She didn't think she could face a crowd of subjects trying to admire the royal family on a day out.

"Oh that works too." He heaved himself up onto a free chair and kicked his legs a few times. "Marshmallow says hello. He's crowned himself king of the mountain again."

Elsa chuckled, rubbing at her tired eyes idly. Images of her towering snow creation sitting on a throne of slush inside the Ice Palace surfaced. "As long as he stops creating avalanches he can be king of anything he wants," she said to Olaf.

"That's what I told him! He said he was sorry for the last one. A bird spooked him."

"He's not too lonely is he?" she asked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Nope," Olaf replied, "He just likes my visits like I like my winters. Short."

Thoughts of Marshmallow were never far from the queen's mind. He was her largest living creation – as high as the castle gates with large apposing fists and a dome like head carved from the thickest ice. His tantrums were severe and habitually started avalanches that blocked roads, destroyed convoys and isolated villages.

_To be expected, _she thought bitterly_, he was created out of your fear and anger._

Her heated thoughts softened. He was part of her, and she of him. Deep down she knew Marshmallow could be sweet and considerate. He doted on Astrid when they visited and let the little girl sit proudly atop his broad icy shoulders like an indulgent big brother. With Anna he was gentle and soft-spoken. Although easily rattled, that much was true. This was why Olaf made frequent trips to keep him company and help channel the snowgiant's nervous energy.

"I missed you." Olaf's eyes were large as he gazed at her with an open sort of piety. It was highly disconcerting – to have magical snow looking at you so devotedly. She'd mentioned it once to Anna and her wife had been wholly unhelpful.

_"What do you expect, you made him! That's make you like his mistress or something. Or his mom. Oh my god, you're a snowman's mom."_

Again, wholly unhelpful.

"We missed you too, Olaf."

"Really? How much? From a scale of one to ten –no, no _twenty_!" His flurry intensified with the force of his enthusiasm and he rocked precariously on the edge of the good leather seat.

A snowflake landed on the queen's nose.

"A lot," she said vaguely, wiping the snowflake away. "Especially Astrid."

The snowman giggled uproariously and slid off the chair, hopping a few times. "I missed her too. We're going to do so many fun things today! I'll teach her how to fish and plant flowers and make daisy chains –"

She let the snowman babble on. He was happy and that was all that mattered. Elsa had no doubts he and Astrid would scamper the length and breadth of the castle gardens to do every item on his invented list. It would be wonderful to hear Astrid's laugh among the planted trees and see her daughter grin brightly at her, perhaps even take her hand to show her the ducklings or tadpoles in the pond. With any luck the little one would forget about pursuing Anna and Elsa's story in favour of playing with Olaf. This way she would never learn nor want to learn about Elsa's follies and mistakes. Or of the destiny that been branded on Elsa since before her birth.

* * *

A/N: Another Monday, another chapter. Do feel free to take a detour through the tumblr page for this fic. The link is on my profile. Once again thank you to everyone who has read, favourited, followed and reviewed this story.

Review Responses:

juancarlos-valdezmedina: Their relationship is something which I struggled with but I'm glad it's paying off. I wanted to portray the love that was there but also the hesitancy and longing. You'll get to see a trip up the North Mountain soon, I promise.

Lauren H 91: Sometimes I think I overkill it with the angst but I'm glad it's getting your seal of approval. That scene is a personal favourite of mine too! Actually Astrid does know about her mother's powers but has learned not to ask for demonstrations. That's why she's so taken by the story. It's her first glimpses into why exactly Elsa is so careful around her. As for a second baby ... guess we'll just have to wait and see!

Guest: And I love you for reading!

Electra-Red: Astrid is a true force of nature. Yes, I'm particularly excited for readers to see that part of the story too.

Guest: Thank you very much.

xRoseThorn: We should start a fan club. The "Elsa is adorkable when she's jealous" club.

Yuiiub: I'm glad! I was toying with the idea of flashbacks but honestly, I think they take away from a story instead of enhance it. Changing the tense keeps a flow going and I really liked how everything fit together.

FanOfAction: We'll discover a lot more about Elsa's past. There's also some background information on the tumblr page if you're so inclined.

polarhamster10: I'm flattered. Updates are every Monday-Dublin time if it's of any consolation!

FaythHymns: He's one of mine too. Although I still have nightmares of learning the Flight of the Bumblebee for my flute exam ...

Claire Cooper: I think it's only polite to take the time to respond to people who have reviewed. It is not an obligatory thing so that makes it even more special. Elsa has demons that have not been quite put to rest but we'll see her battle through them. We'll also get to see Astrid's character develop passed her 'cute' persona into something more befitting a girl whose mother has been almost emotionally absent. Olaf actually has a purpose beyond hugging the life out of Astrid! We just have to go back a few years to see what that is.

shan-shanon: Please don't die. You won't get to see Anna trek up the North Mountain otherwise.

Guest: I'm so glad people are positive of that!

el-sana: We won't get to experience all the high's and low's of Anna and Elsa's courtship I'm afraid. It just wasn't in the plan for this story. If people want, when this story has concluded, I might think about writing a courtship-centred multi-chapter fic. To answer your question, Elsa was plagued with a prophecy (which we will we get so see soon) that has haunted her for years. It still haunts her now. Even if she has mastered her powers the threat of that prophecy is still very real for her. After reading this chapter you've learnt that not only has she hurt her father, she has also hurt Anna; two of the people she loved the most in the world. Imagine then, having a child. You are suddenly this life's protector - but imagine having Elsa's past. You've hurt everyone you loved and now you must try and believe that you will not hurt this new person whom you love more than anything in the world. Anyone would find it hard.

Tripower: Don't worry about reviewing each time. As long as you enjoy reading the story I'm a happy author.

Baku babe: 30 times? Well, that is some achievement for an author. Smut is not a particular strength of mine, so I do hope you've enjoyed this. Hahaha, thank you very much. I think you might be the most enthusiastic of my readers and it's a pleasure to write for people who enjoy my work like you do.

ShadowWolfBeast: They are rather like the Good Cop-Bad Cop! Although, Anna is more than capable of reprimanding Astrid without Elsa's input. They're not as balanced as you might think ... but more on that later ;)

Yasetsu: Sir Bjorg is a little puppy toy with a knitted helmet and sword. I'm afraid I may not have been very clear about that in earlier chapters.

avatar-kyuubi-warrior: Don't worry, you weren't the only one!


	7. The Circular Room

Chapter VII

The Circular Room

* * *

"Okay, okay, hold up – the man puts his _what_ in the woman's _what_?"

Astrid nodded ferociously, looking as put off as the snowman gaping at her. They were sitting at the edge of the pond with the princess's skirts hiked up about her waist so as not to sully the dress her mother had picked this morning. Her jacket equally lay in a heap to the side; along with her shoes which she'd kicked off in a fit of excited pirouetting when she, Momma, Mom and Olaf had entered the private gardens. Olaf's snowy rump was already matted with grass and loose pebbles. Although he was too focused on Astrid to give it much thought.

"I know," Astrid whispered, aghast. "Mom wouldn't tell me so I had one of my tutors yesterday explain. I told him it was for science."

The snowman cringed. If his carrot nose had been real he would have wrinkled it. "That can't be right."

"I wonder what they're talking about," Anna mused from the other side of the garden.

She and Elsa had set up residence under a shady weeping willow. Anna's back was pressed against the bark as Elsa reclined into her, half-moon spectacles on and reading her book contentedly in the splintered afternoon sun. Astrid and Olaf had been with them for a time, gibbering excitedly about horses and the like, before scampering off in search of more daring adventures. Mothers were simply too dull for children to linger; or so Anna and Elsa were told.

In all, it had been a wonderful idea on Elsa's part to take a personal day for the family to reconnect. Anna couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her wife look so serene. Perhaps during their honeymoon; when they'd taken to holing themselves in their bedroom and taking long walks around the town. Easing up on her duties suited the Queen of Arendelle to the ground and Anna would certainly make sure this became a customary occurrence.

Elsa purred when Anna's fingers threaded in her hair, massaging her scalp. "Mmm, probably deciding how best to overthrow the kingdom and usurp her mother from the throne."

"Drat. You've discovered our evil plan," Anna laughed. She nuzzled her chin atop the queen's shoulder comfortably. "Whatcha readin'?"

"My good friend William Shakespeare."

Anna made a disgusted noise. She'd taken Elsa's love for Shakespeare with clear repugnance, citing the vast array of penis jokes as source of her ire. Still, Elsa maintained that William's ideologies would long outlive them and their kingdom and so should be respected. Anna wasn't so certain; on both accounts.

"If you're reading Romeo and Juliette I may have to leave you. Forever." She added that last part for dramatic effect. She could be theatrical, too.

Elsa turned a page, not at all taking the comment to heart. If anything Anna's arms around her tightened at the lie. "Why's that?"

"Because it's not some tragic love story like your stuffy noble lady friends paint it out to be. It was a weird psychotic lust affair between two idiots that lasted three days. "

"And six people died, dear," Elsa added over her shoulder. "And what stuffy noble lady friends?"

Anna ignored her. "See? You're only cementing my point. I seriously would never get married to a guy I barely know."

"Well I hope you're in _this_ marriage for the long haul because I'm not reading Romeo and Juliette." Elsa let one of her hands fall over Anna's clasped ones around her abdomen and squeezed.

"That's good. I'm far too lazy to find a new suitor."

"You say the sweetest things sometimes, Anna." Elsa closed the book and pushed her spectacles into her hair. She then proceeded to snuggle back into her wife and lose herself in the tranquillity of their surroundings with no impeding engagements or pressing diplomatic matters to hurry off to. If Anna was so hell-bent on ruining Shakespeare for her than Elsa reasoned she was due some well merited cuddling time.

The queens were almost asleep when an interruption in the form of a very loud and jarring blonde tumbled over their legs, joined almost immediately by a frozen snowman. The two wore matching sheepish smiles as Queen Elsa and Queen Anna regarded them with drowsy frustration. Although being vexed by Astrid was a fruitless exercise. For what she lacked in subtlety – a trait passed down from the Winterlands side of the family no doubt – she made up with her winning Arendelle smile.

"Astrid …" Elsa's tone was a clear warning.

"Sorry, Mom."

"Sorry, Elsa," Olaf piped up beside his partner in crime.

"Can we have the rest of that story now?" Astrid implored, scooting closer to the two women until she was almost in their laps. Her eyes were large and dazzling as ever and Elsa internally groaned. Those eyes would be the death of her someday. If Anna's didn't deliver the killer blow first, of course.

"It's like seeing your little clone," Anna whispered into her ear. "Look at her." Elsa did.

Astrid was pale and delicate. Her eyes were lighter than hers – almost the same beautiful shade as her Momma's that made both women melt and their authorities crumble. Her face was sharp and angular like all the Arendelle rulers of the past and her hair was almost as light as Elsa's, pushed back into a messy ponytail. She was in fact, a little replica of the queen when Elsa had been a child.

How was it then, that Elsa could only see Anna?

How was it that she was the only one who could pair Astrid's rosy cheeks with Anna's? Or notice the same prominent dusting of freckles along the bridge of their noses and shoulder blades? How their laughs, their optimism, their belief in justice and happily ever after's were shared. How one smile from Astrid could quell the hurt and fear in Elsa's disfigured mind just like Anna's could.

Was this why the fear she had of hurting Astrid was so great?

Astrid was talking again. For the life of her Elsa couldn't engage her brain to understand the words. "Mom said you had to pick up the rest of the story, Momma."

"Okay!" Anna said buoyantly. "Where did you and Mom finish last?"

Astrid told her and Elsa braced herself for the onslaught of memories.

* * *

Anna has done her fair share of idiotic things in her life; like cliff diving into icy waters in the western territory of the capital Winterland island, jockeying in flapper tracks for shady bookies, taunting her father's War Admiral into sword fights (Uncle Herman has never forgiven her for almost running him through with a sword at Pop's birthday) and sneaking into the kitchens at night to steal the morning's pastries. She doesn't care what anyone says to the contrary – their cook is a menace to society. She has the wooden spoon marks on her backside to prove it.

But this has got to be, undeniably, the most idiotic thing she has ever done or will ever do in her life. Period.

"ELSAAAAAA!" she cries, "ELSAAAAAA!"

"Anna! It's no use! We'll never find her in this blizzard!" She can barely see Kristoff through this storm. His voice sounds far away though she can feel his large hand clasped in hers.

They're battling their way through the ever rising snowfall with the horses trailing behind them, unwilling to move in this turmoil. Pulling them along is tiring; trudging through this snowstorm is tiring; realizing that she has probably lost the newly crowned Queen of Arendelle is downright exhausting. They'll be war over this, she can already feel it. It was her one goal on this godforsaken trip. Not to start a war, not to get caught talking with her mouthful and not to fall for said newly crowned monarch.

Wait, what?

"I think that's Arendelle castle!" her brother shouts disrupting her sudden epiphany. He shivers violently with his words and Anna can feel his tremors in their handhold. Neither of them is dressed for the occasion. The sight of the castle towers though are a welcome sight, if a bittersweet one. They can regroup and don some proper attire before venturing out once more in search of the queen.

Thankfully the castle gates have been blown open by the force of the gale. People are scattering about in the courtyard trying to batten down doors and windows. Anna and Kristoff hurry inside the protective walls and head towards the stables adjoined to the battlements on the east wall of the castle where several grooms are running around inside trying to soothe the terrified horses. It's manic. Men are shouting, horses are bellowing and kicking at their doors in fright, windows are being blown open in the wind.

"Someone take these horses, please," Anna shouts when not one man moves in their direction. "We've lost Queen Elsa and her horse! We need to get a search party out!"

"We can't possibly, Your Highness –" a man splutters at her. "You can't see two feet in front of yourself out there! Any man who goes out in this will surely freeze to death before finding her."

She flings the reigns into his chest with a snarl and races out of the stable with Kristoff at her heels, trying to reason with her. His words don't reach her. Or maybe they do and her body, fuelled by adrenaline and fear, have tuned him out. Instead she pushes through the winds and forces her small body towards the castle where Elsa's Chamberlain is allowing people to take refuge inside.

"Your Highnesses!" he says as they ascend the steps with great difficulty, eyes widening in terror when he notices the missing occupant within their ranks. "The Quee—" He falls silent and Anna's knows that he understands.

He lets them into the entrance hall. They're not alone. The room is abuzz with chatter from dozens of people. Guards, peasants, noblemen and women alike all taking refuge in the Arendelle castle to wait out this freak storm. Footmen and handmaidens are passing out furs and blankets, allocating rooms for the upper classes and pushing the common folk into the warm parlour.

Elsa's Chamberlain finds them throwing layers over their shivering heads and his face looks grave. His cravat is rumpled and his gloved hands are shaking the new candle in his grasp.

"Follow me."

"Where?" Kristoff asks.

"Please … you might be the only people who can help us now."

They follow him, not before throwing each other long searching looks. In the end the Chamberlain leads them out of the entrance hall and down a part of the castle they have never been to before, right down in the belly of the structure. Portraits in these stone hallways are covered by tarps and the lanterns are burning low. Their footsteps against the floor are the only noise anyone can hear. Even the storm outside hasn't penetrated this part of the building. It's perfectly still. Anna chooses to focus on the cold beginning to seep into her bones and not how foreboding the Chamberlain's silence is. Kristoff at her side prefers to dance the remaining chill off from his limbs. She throws him a pointed glare. He sticks his tongue back out at her.

Once at the end of the hall the Chamberlain stops in front of two great oak doors. Kristoff makes a murmured sound of awe. Anna can understand why; they reach almost all the way to the ceiling, completely dwarfing them by comparison. The Chamberlain raises the candle so that the princess and prince may see what is etched into the wood. Carved into them are scenes of what Anna guesses is Arendelle's history – an Elk hunt, the first King on his throne with two great Dire Wolves at his seated side, a man forging the first royal sword, knights jousting on armoured horses, women baking, men laying the foundations of a great castle. Intricate snowflakes frame these scenes, curling at the top of the oak doors where an engraved woman with her palms upturned is conjuring them into being. Anna's eyes linger there before dropping to the Chamberlain whose severe features have not lightened at the beautiful crafted elegance before them.

"What I am about to show you has been a guarded secret for hundreds of years."

"Does this have anything to do with Queen Elsa being a witch?"

"Kristoff!" Anna barks, mortified.

The Chamberlain's does not respond as the young man yelps, "What? We're all thinking it!"

The older gentleman instead turns away from the bickering pair and grasps onto one of the large iron rings protruding from the doors, pulling at it with all his might. One side of the doors groans and creaks in protest but gives way to the Chamberlain's efforts. It opens slowly and Anna gapes into the newly revealed room, loosening her hold around her brother's neck instantly. Kristoff rubs at his smartening skin with an offended pout but follows the princess inside in abashed silence.

The first thing Anna notices is that the room is circular. Around the length of this circular room are suits of armour holding swords in front of their metal chests with beautiful purple plumes on their helmets. The room is not dusty, everything is clean - someone has obviously been delegated the task of polishing the armours. The only light shines from low burning torches, newly lighted. It illuminates just enough for the three occupants to be able to see. The armours gleam in the warm glow.

At the other end of the room is an old stone throne, cracked and chipped, under an ancient tapestry that swallows the entire wall. "Are those words?" Kristoff's voice echoes in the silence.

Anna squints as they approach and realizes Kristoff is right. There are words etched into the fabric of the tapestry with more scenes. More snowflakes, a woman on her knees in front of a knight brandishing a sword.

"Your future is bleak, your kingdom will splinter. Your land shall be cursed with unending winter. With blasts of cold will come dark art, and a ruler with a frozen heart. Then all will perish in snow and ice, unless you are freed with a sword sacrifice …" Kristoff trails off as the words fully settle, frowning up at the knight and the woman on the tapestry.

"Sword sacrifice?" Anna whispers.

The Chamberlain approaches the throne and from behind it, pulls out a magnificent sword. He heaves at the weight of it but manages to hand it off to Kristoff with a pained sigh. "This sword was crafted hundreds of years ago and hidden here for the sole purpose of fulfilling the prophecy you just read out," he says.

Kristoff glances up at him before turning his attention back to the weapon. The hilt is incrusted with topaz and diamonds. The quillion's end with the golden faces of two wolves with shiny red rubies for eyes and on the pommel is engraved with a snowflake. Anna has never seen a finer sword.

"Why was it hidden behind the throne?"

"Sometimes it is best to hide things in plain sight," the Chamberlain replies simply.

"It's been polished," Anna murmurs. The sword looks pristine, denying its true age. It gleams in the light. Her eyes catch the Chamberlain's guilty ones. "You've been preparing for this," she accuses quietly.

"Princess Anna, believe me when I say that this prophecy has burdened my kin for generations." The older man rubs at his aching forehead and gazes at one of the suits of armour. It looks frighteningly like the one on the tapestry. "King Akthar and Queen Idunn tried so very hard to make sure Elsa's powers never got out of hand. Alas, their attempts failed."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Queen Elsa must be … must be …" it looks like he has trouble saying the words aloud and in his eyes Anna can see a very real pain. He must have watched Elsa grow up, been there for her first halting steps.

"Killed," Kristoff says at last. His face is set in a hard reproachful grimace. "You want to kill your queen."

"To save Arendelle," the Chamberlain persists although even he does not sound as convinced. "To protect it's people."

"Why tell us this?" Anna asks hurriedly. Her mind is a whirl with emotions and scenarios that end with Elsa's blood staining in the clear snow, against the metal of armours with purple plumes.

"You have experience tracking in these conditions. Or so your father has always boasted. You can find Queen Elsa and lead our men to her."

A pause. And then-

"Are you out of your _MIND_?!"

"Anna," her brother says gently placing a hand on her trembling shoulders.

She shakes him off roughly, alight with fury. "No, Kristoff! They want us to kill Elsa! Can't you see how messed up that is?"

"People will die, Anna," he tries again. "Think of all those innocent people who will freeze to death if we don't do something."

She thinks of Elsa's eyes and her serene smile and how it makes butterflies scatter in her chest. How Anna thinks she might be in love. How she couldn't keep her eyes of Elsa all those years ago at the Arendelle Winter Solstice Ball when she was barely fifteen years old with great delusions of romance; how it felt to be close to her, to speak with her, to be pressed against her (Thank _you_, Mr. Duke of _Weasel-town_).

"It's awful," he agrees, letting the blade of the offending sword rest in an upturned palm. "It's unfair and horrible that Elsa has been cursed with this. But we can't let people suffer, Anna. Not if we can help it."

Anna closes her eyes for a long moment. When she opens them again it is to take the sword from her brother and test its weight. It's heavier than the practice swords back home. The blade glints and feels menacing. She cannot even imagine what it would be like to plunge the blade into Elsa's porcelain skin – stain it with droplets of blood. Elsa is not a caribou or a bear to be hunted for sport and pride. Elsa is Queen, Elsa is Friend, Elsa … in another life, could have been _hers_.

"I know Elsa can stop this winter on her own. She can thaw it." When the Chamberlain merely lowers his eyes she ploughs on, tears stinging her own, "But if Elsa _is_ to die to fulfil your stinking _prophecy_," she says quietly to the Chamberlain, knuckles whitening around the sword and spitting the word out like it has burned her tongue, "Then she will die loved, not feared."

* * *

A/N: Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet was published in two quarto editions prior to the publication of the First Folio of 1623. These are referred to as Q1 and Q2. And if you love Bill like I do, you'll know his work has penis jokes everywhere. Anna's not a fan. Elsa is. More so for the ideas within the text than the characters themselves. She has been caught giggling at a penis joke in the past, though.

Anyway. Another Monday, another chapter.

I've been busy this week and I honestly didn't think I'd have the chapter ready by today. Thankfully (or not so thankfully) a few of my meetings were rescheduled and I was able to cram a couple of hours of writing in between work. Sometimes it pays to be the boss.

Once again, thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favourited and reviewed this story. Your continued support makes it so much easier to write.

Lastly, if you feel so inclined, you can cruise on down to my profile for the tumblr to this story. I occasionally put up background information with my personal headcanons. Sometimes I even wail about my life. It's mildly entertaining.

Review Responses:

juancarlos-valdezmedina: Firstly, thank you. My writing style is still developing and growing but I am so very glad people are enjoying it. Secondly, to answer your questions: 1. Elsa's relationship with her mother will indeed be addressed. 2. I can't really tell you the ending of the story, because then you won't be surprised! All I can say is that we won't see a teenage Astrid. I may continue this world, though, so there's still hope.

Guest: Oh good, you enjoyed the love scene. I was a little worried I'd be sub-par.

Claire Cooper: Oh quite definitely. In fact, we'll get to see how Elsa's parents shaped Elsa to be the way she is today. I can also safely say that Elsa will try to not make the same mistakes that they did.

FaythHymns: To be quite honest I didn't think I'd be writing smut this early on in the story! But it was a good warm-up for later. Guess everyone benefits! Thank you very much for your kinds words; I'm just surprised this many people like it.

FanOfAction: I trust this chapter had the answers to all your questions!

Yuiiub: The past and the present is always weaving together to create a bigger picture for us. And honestly, I didn't think we'd get a love scene until the last chapter! But, the story then dictated that I make a small detour. Consider it a warm-up act. I'm toying with the idea of making a courting story once HIMYM-Frozen concludes actually, so stay tuned for that. Also thank you for your continued support and I'm very glad you're enjoying the story.

Electra Red: I'm glad you like my style - I know it's not as sophisticated as some of the other wonderful writers in the fandom but I try, lol. I hope you've enjoyed the continuation.

KM Rune: I'm glad your travels have led you to my little fic. Hope you've enjoyed this latest chapter.

KM: We're definitely going to see Elsa share her thoughts and feelings about the past and get a glimpse into Anna and Elsa's early relationship, don't you worry.

Yasetsu: King Akthar was a pretty cool dad, back in the day. Marshmallow is pretty much my favourite snowman (sorry Olaf).

Lauren H 91: Yes, you understood perfectly! Lots of things changed, and we'll get to see exactly to what extent. We'll definitely see an interaction between them soon. Now now, dear, don't get too excited; I said _maybe_. (Although I have been toying with the idea ... )

Baku babe: Oh please don't lose sleep over me! Anna's super fit and Elsa is magical sooooo... I admit I've been seriously toying the the idea of a second baby but it probably won't feature in this story. Living dangerously, Baku. I dig it. Do pay attention though, the story will still be there after you get out of class.

xRoseThorn: I actually haven't read The Fault In Our Stars yet (my best friend is obsessed. She has quotes highlighted) although I probably should! Thank you for reading. I await my club membership with impatience.

ShadowWolfBeast: Olaf is legit the most awful character to write so I'm so glad you think he's cute.

R3dN0te: You guys really want another magical baby! Astrid is, granted, a lot like Anna so maybe the next hypothetical baby will be a little more like Elsa.

polarhamster10: I adore Astrid too, don't worry. All the hard work was worth it if you've enjoyed this latest chapter.

Ren's rain: Hope I was able to keep your interest with this latest chapter.

Guest: I hope it was worth all the impatient waiting.

Guest: I'm very glad!

Tripower: This story is, firstly, a story of redemption. Elsa will face her lingering daemons head on both in the past and in the present. In both timelines she has Anna's unwavering support and we, the readers, get to delve into both. Thank you very much.


	8. The Roles We Play

Chapter VIII

The Roles We Play

* * *

The Winterlands are made up of three interconnected islands that rely heavily on their ports for export and trade. Storms have crippled them financially in the past; cattle was injured, game was scarce; what little fields the country had were flooded. Anna's father remembers times when their subjects had starved under the rule of her grandfather the late King Franz. Ships brave enough to venture out had wrecked against rocks and vessels from trading partners had docked in nearby Corona to wait out the gales.

Anna thinks that King Franz would be rolling in his grave if he saw her now – battling the elements.

"Have you learned nothing, girl?" she can almost hear him spit at her. "What do we do if we're caught in a storm?"

_Find shelter and wait it out_, used to be her usual monotone reply to the veteran that lived in the library writing in his large heavy volumes. The advice is so thoroughly engraved in her that Anna feels a strange sense of guilt to be disobeying him.

The group she and Kristoff are leading into the newly crafted tundra that was once Arendelle's countryside make up five heavily armed guards of Kai's own choosing. They are layered in thick fur coats and hunting hats with daggers strapped to their torsos and crossbows slung on their backs. In normal circumstances Anna knows these men could hunt anything down. She has visions of them bringing down great hulking elks and pulling their large carcases proudly through town. But these aren't normal circumstances. The only people who could easily navigate and survive this blizzard are the young royals. All the Winterlands siblings are to them are human bloodhounds, capable of finding their target in this terrain. Anna and Kristoff are able trackers simply as a result of the King's fondness for the sport of hunting (not caribou, no one could quite will themselves to strike one down since Sven joined the family), despite Mother's very vocal displeasure that her children were partaking in such dangerous and barbaric activities for days at a time.

"All of this snow is coming from that mountain," Kristoff says to her, his mouth swallowed by his winter coat. His declaration snaps Anna out of her melancholic line of thought. He points a gloved hand to the peak of the highest mountain in the distance where storm clouds have gathered. She squints into the skyline.

"I think you're right," she says. She tries to rein her horse in when the animal begins to fret. He's skittish and green but the only horse the stable master could lure out of his box. "The blizzard is dying off. I think Elsa's powers are being focused somewhere else – probably up there."

"That's the North Mountain," one of the men says, leaning his hands against the top ridge of the saddle for support. They're tired after having trekked most of the day. Evening is falling in around them. "No way up there."

"Can't we climb it?" Kristoff's eyes are narrowed in on the peak, the gears in his brain running at full speed. Anna knows climbing the mountain would probably get them killed. One strong gust of wind could smash them against the façade. But what other choice did they have?

"Maybe," the man answers. The other four look at each other wearily. "We'll have to get supplies. Oaken's trading post and sauna isn't too far from here. He's usually well stocked."

The trip to Oaken's trading post (and sauna, the men all chorus that in eerie synchronisation) probably takes twenty minutes on a good day – yet when trudging through snow it takes a good hour for the small convoy to reach their destination. The trail has been lost under the snowfall and Anna can sense the men are getting agitated. She and Kristoff share a look. What will Elsa do when they do find her? Most likely panic at the sight of the armed men; and there is no telling what the queen might do if threatened.

The men tie the horses inside a barn situated roughly one hundred yards from Oaken's trading post. The horses begin to feed happily in the relative safety of the structure. Even the men look less rattled. They sit on piles of hay and silently will Anna and Kristoff to get the supplies while they rub feeling back into their frozen hands.

"We've got to lose these guys," Kristoff mutters to her from a corner of his mouth as they hurry out into the snow. He and Anna hike their collars up against the frigid air. It feels like it's gotten colder in the hours since Elsa has fled. "They'll only frighten Elsa even more."

"Can we really do that?" Anna asks. She can't even begin to imagine what the men might do if they find themselves deserted. Would they track Anna and Kristoff down and imprison them under treason? She tries not to think about the consequences such a sentence would bring and instead mutters out, "Won't the Chamberlain be angry?"

Kristoff's reply is gruff. "I'd take that over Miss Snow Queen impaling us with icicles just because she got spooked by men armed to their teeth."

The bell in the shop tingles their arrival. Immediately a cheery voice greets them with a strange "Ooohoo, big summer blowout!" and Anna startles at the sudden vision of a man who can only be Oaken.

He's broad shouldered and _big_ (bigger than Kristoff even) with a colourful jumper only a blind man would wear and large hands, as wide as shovels, interlocked over his desk. Anna briefly wonders if he'd been a logger in a previous life. It certainly looks like he has the brawn for it. He grins at them, looking pleased that someone has braved the freak storm to reach his little trading post. Anna smiles back reflexively. He looks so cheery and harmless. She wants to pinch his cheek.

"Half price on bathing suits, clogs and a sun balm of my own invention, ja?"

She winces slightly at his hopeful tone. Best not to anger this big fella. His paws could probably knock a few teeth out with one swoop. "Oh great, wow, that sounds … um, Kristoff, you can take this one."

Her brother sighs. It's his habitual response to everything she does. Anna's rather glad he's the first in line to the throne. He's got their father's disapproving air down to a tee. "We're looking for climbing supplies. And maybe a back door if you've got one? There's some people out in your barn that we're trying to get away from."

Oaken chuckles in his strange lilting tone. She can't place his accent – Elvedeer perhaps? "I know all about back doors. My husband will show you." He points to a man in the adjoining sauna with four little ones that all wave cheerily with the same strange "oohoo!".

Anna colours scarlet at the sexual innuendo but waves back nonetheless. She was raised with impeccable manners, after all.

Kristoff rolls his eyes and nods, shaking some snow from his coat. It's his only tell to how anxious he is. "Fine, fine. Now, your climbing gear?"

"That's in our winter department." Oaken nods to a small bare corner of the store. It stands out like a sore thumb. A sad sore thumb. Anna makes a despondent face as Kristoff retrieves a solitary rope and pick.

This is going to be a lot harder than they originally thought.

"That's it? That's all you've got?"

The large man shrugs. "Sorry. Supply and demand, my friends. You understand, ja?"

Kristoff groans. "Just show us the back door."

"That's the way up the North Mountain," Oaken's husband says a moment later. He's thankfully wearing clothes now. He stands next to Oaken and their army of children, pointing at the soft trodden trail behind the trading post. "Taking a horse will attract too much attention. Stick to the trees and watch out for wolves. We'll point the guards in the opposite direction."

Wolves. Anna's eyes widen at her brother. No one said anything about wolves!

"Thanks again for everything, guys. We promise to try and stop this winter from taking the rest of your business," Kristoff says hurriedly, grabbing his sister's arm and tugging her up the trail.

"Yeeeeeah, I don't bet on it," Oaken says to his husband through a large fake grin as they wave their customers off their land.

The trek is relatively easy. Living in the Winterlands gives you an edge on the wilderness and snow. And so they walk through the night, ears pricked for the sound of hoof beats, and pass the time by talking about their brood mares back home and what studs are available in Corona to foal them to. Anna's glad for the distraction. She knows Kristoff could care less about breeding and that he's doing this for her. As weird and righteous and smelly as he is, he's still a good big brother.

"Arendelle," she breathes suddenly. It stops Kristoff mid-sentence and the siblings turn together to see the city of Arendelle exposed from their high vantage point.

It's sunrise. The light catches the town, bathing it in a gentle orange glow and revealing it to be …

"Frozen," Kristoff breathes, part awe and part fear. "It's completely frozen."

It is. The colourful houses Anna had marvelled at from their ship when they'd first docked in the port are painted silvery white. Nothing has escaped Elsa's eternal winter. Even the castle is bathed in ice which glints in the morning sun.

Anna makes a noise of saddened agreement. "But it'll be fine, Elsa will thaw it. I know she can."

"I'm not sure, Anna," Kristoff mutters. One of his hands is placed atop the pommel of the sword Kai has given them. The sight makes Anna's heart thump angrily. "We've got to be prepared for the worst … "

* * *

"There's no way Uncle Kristoff was that mean," Astrid proclaimed with her nose held aloft in petulant refusal.

"He was _way_ mean," Anna shot back, arms lifting from around Elsa's waist to curl around her neck instead. "To think he wanted to slay my little snow queen." She blew a wet and disgusting raspberry against her wife's cheek and delighted in Astrid and Elsa's cries of indignation and disgust.

"Eeew, Momma, stop!"

"Anna, stop that! Ugh!"

Anna giggled, helping Elsa wipe the drool from her face with the ends of her sleeve. Then she proceeded to kiss the back of the queen's neck in silent apology.

"You know Uncle Kristoff just wanted to do what was right for our people, Astrid," Elsa said quietly, hands wringing in her lap.

"I know," Astrid replied, in a way that suggested she'd heard this spiel before.

"A Queen is servant to her subjects and must always—

"-do what is best for her people and her kingdom," Anna, Olaf and Astrid chorused, much like chastised schoolchildren reciting their lines in a school play.

"That's right." Elsa sighed, letting herself smile for the first time since Anna had begun narrating her side of the story. "Now run along and enjoy the good weather. Why don't you go make Momma and I some daisy crowns?"

Astrid and Olaf readily agreed. They scampered off to a bountiful patch of daisies and set to work immediately. They were so lost in the task that they failed to notice their parents watching over them for a few moments before Anna nudged Elsa's shoulder with her nose in silent demand.

"You okay?"

"Fine," Elsa said quietly. "It's just hard hearing about the past."

"Don't dwell on it too long," Anna said, trying to dispel the forlorn atmosphere their day had plunged itself in. It wasn't at all what she'd set about to do. "You'll get worry lines and then you'll blame them on me and Astrid."

"Who else would concern me so much that I'd get worry lines?"

Anna scrunched her nose in thought and tilted her head. That was a good point.

Elsa laughed once before she tucked her spectacles snugly on the bridge of her nose, picking up her discarded book and beginning to read from where she had last left off. Only … the words were swimming on the page. They curled and flew in all directions and constructed themselves into a scene. They built up a dark study with a roaring fireplace where the shadow of a girl and her father sat, looking into the flames.

* * *

Sixteen is an arduous age for anyone to navigate, let alone a princess. Not quite a girl, not yet a woman; expected to take on responsibilities yet anticipated to be seen and not heard like a child. Elsa knows this dance. She's become a master of it. Curtsey, listen, do not engage, do not speak unless spoken to, but analyse. Always analyse the situation. Pinpoint chinks in the armour – a fiery temper, a loose tongue, a growing debt.

Father is the sole tutor of this particular lesson. The exam she is preparing for is years upon decades away, God willing. The lesson takes place each Thursday evening in his study or on the odd occasion that he allows her to sit in during his Council meetings with the Lords. She is an attentive student, diligent in her studies and eager to please her tutor. His praises are subdued in their deliverance (a simple smile, a nod of acknowledgement to a correct statement) and his punishments for drifting attentions are delivered with a sharp reprimand and banishment from the study altogether.

Elsa both lives for and dreads these Thursday evenings.

Tonight Father is poking at the fire and settling down in his favourite armchair like a sleepy cat, his eyes heavy with work and drowsiness. The room is aglow and Elsa lets her eyes settle on her long shadow which curls across the thick rugs. She is tired, too. It shows in the limpness of her gloved hands on her lap, of the curled defeat of her shoulders, of the timbre of her voice as she utters a soft and questioning, "Father?"

"How is your frost, Elsa?"

The questions gives her pause. She blinks at the man before her. Father is dressed in a simple vest and uniform slacks with his legs crossed. In his fingers is a lit cigar that he taps unconsciously. Soft flakes of ash drift into an ashtray at his side. He is not looking at her. His gaze is trained on the points of his raised shoe. Still, it's the first time they've spoken of Elsa's powers in eight years.

"Fine, Father," she says monotonously.

Father nods absentmindedly and takes another drag of his cigar. He lets a plume of smoke blow softly from his open mouth, liked a relieved breath. "Good," he says vaguely. He doesn't sound present in the moment. "Good."

He continues to smoke for a time with Elsa sitting quietly and listening to the chime of a Grandfather clock in the hall outside and the crackling of the wood as it splinters against the flames. Her gloved fingers fret together. The ice surges and she wills it down with a contained hiss the king thankfully doesn't pick up.

"You remember the prophecy?"

"Pardon?" Elsa manages around a gasp. The ice inside her gloves breaks off into little shards and melts almost instantly. She's reigned in. She is in control once more.

"The prophecy, Elsa," Father sighs, rolling the cigar and staring into the flames.

Yes, yes she is aware. She's lived in fear of it since she was eight years old and her father stopped tucking her in at night and playing with her. She dreams of trolls and wolves. She dreams of swords.

"I won't let this consume you," he murmurs. "I won't let this consume our family any longer."

"I don't understand."

His eyes finally meet hers. Steel grey meets icy blue. Hers automatically lower in habit and respect.

"You and I, Elsa," he says, "are going to crush this prophecy. We are _not_ going to let this frost consume us." He throws his cigar into the fire and stands, rocking slightly on his feet. "Conceal it, Elsa. Don't feel it. Don't feel this prophecy. Don't become it/"

He's starting to frighten her now. He looks enraged; unlike the calm and collected leader she has looked up to and craved attention from all these years. His face is almost purple and his brow is furrowed in concentration. His fists are clenched and he sways with the rising power of his fury. Right now, he is not her king. Now … he is a man without any options.

"Conceal, don't feel," he chants, on a maddening loop. "Elsa, we can't let our legacy crumble! You _will_ become queen! You _will_ lead Arendelle forward and break this damn curse that has plagued our family- our first King!"

"I … " she doesn't know what else to say. She wants to believe him so fiercely. Her entire being aches to believe that she can rise above the monster she is destined to be.

"Arendelle will not fall!" he roars at her, and suddenly Elsa realizes with perfect clarity that he no longer sees his little girl. He only sees her terrible power.

Something inside her dies. It cracks and breaks off. The light in her eyes dims until all she can do is stare him down with all the iciness in her veins. It halts him. His posture stiffens in apprehension of the stance she has taken in her armchair. Closed off but regal, back lengthening and chin held aloft. She looks him the eyes and nods, once.

"Yes, Father."

She sounds nothing like his little girl, either.

* * *

A/N: Another Monday, another chapter.

Heads up: There might be a lull for the next update. I'm trying to attract more clients in work and most of my writing time is now being eaten away by that. Rest assured that I'll try my very best to get the next chapter out by Monday. If I don't, expect the chapter on Wednesday.

Sidenote; it's my birthday tomorrow. My brother is supposedly taking me out for lunch - I hope he's ready to hear me wailing about being one year closer to death (I've been weary of getting older since my father sat me down and told me it was time to think about getting on the property ladder.) That's like grown up shit. I'm not ready for credit scores and mortgages. I mean, I still have to give myself a _pep talk_ before making appointments over the phone.

Thank you again to everyone who has read, favourited, followed and reviewed.

Review Responses:

Claire Cooper: I got the idea when I heard the EP soundtrack for Frozen on Spotify. The whole idea of Elsa having to be sacrificed for the good of the kingdom was an extremely emotional and intriguing idea. There will be more twists and turns for sure.

juancarlos-valdezmedina: Well they feel like they have no choice - it's that or Elsa condemns them all to death. I'm sure one of the visiting royalty with royal lineage to Elsa who travelled to Arendelle for her coronation would be _more_ than willing to take over.

xRose Thorn: Yeah, Olaf is starting to grow on me. I think Astrid just makes him more likeable. Hahaha, maybe they're the same person. Does your friend play the drums for a living?

Yuiiub: I'm sorry, I do that. I'm a cliffhanger writer. And a short chapter writer. Which is a horrible combination ... But I'm glad you like it and are sticking with me!

LilDemonWarrior: Yes, I'm glad you spotted that. I loved the mature theme this version of Frozen could have had. The ultimate sacrifice to be paid - their ruler's blood. Astrid is very endearing as a character and I'm trying to flesh her out as this individual with her own fears and aspirations. I'm so glad people have been so welcoming to her. Thank you very much for the kind words and don't feel obligated to write a review each time. Honestly, I don't do it for the reviews, just for the love of writing a story. I'm very glad you're enjoying it so far.

FaythHymns: Well Astrid _is_ six. I had my sex talk at six. My brother had his sex talk at six. It's important children are aware, in a sense, of how sex works and how it affects individuals. Also, it wasn't odd for royalty to have some sort of sexual knowledge at very young ages and it was encouraged for the purpose of heirs. I take the example of Eleanor of Provence, wife to King Henry III. They married when he was 28 and she only 12. And, I actually had to study Shakespeare's life and works for my final examinations in Secondary School. I'm just overflowing with useless Shakespearean facts now. And yes, I am that much of a bore at parties.

Guest: Anna feels your pain.

Yasetsu: Spoiler: The trolls have something to do with the prophecy. I like Marshmallow because he's very reserved and that's much more fun to write than Olaf's boundless energy.

Baku babe: Oh gosh, you're not the only one. I thought it'd be a funny little nod at the first chapter of HIMYM-Frozen. And yes, I can imagine Elsa wouldn't be too pleased that she couldn't do damage control. Yep, I shamelessly stole Disney's discarded idea, lol. Aw no, Canon Anna is still the best. I try to make mine as canon as possible but my Anna is too subdued and patient (grrr). Yeah ... I apologise for the short chapters. I'm just not the type of writer than can write essay-length stuff. I like to keep it short, sweet and consistent.

KM: You'll just have to keep reading to find out! And Hans will make an appearance towards the end but that's all I'll say.

Serafina: Yes, that's something I wanted to address from the start. It seemed ludicrous to think that just because Anna gave Elsa the key to thawing out her eternal winter everything would be hunky-dory. Fears and memories linger. The timelines was also something I'd been wrestling with (whether to insert italicised flashbacks or just keep the flow by changing the P.O.V) I'm glad you've brought that up ... the prophecy as is written is fairly vague and can take many interpretations ... and that's all I'll say. You're talking to a Bill fan here. I got this.

R3dN0te: Baby bookwormish Elsa would be adorable. I think you put me off my Christmas dinner for the next three years with that description, lol.

polarhamster10: Now you're just flattering me. Yes, if they hadn't changed it I don't think we could have brought children to see the movie. Thanks for all the kind words!

Lauren H 91: The prophecy just elevates this whole thing to a new level. The story as a result takes more depth.

FanOfAction: She's definitely going to try and find Elsa. As for Astrid being too young for the sex talk, I've already answered that in another response. It was largely very natural for the time and I was personally given the sex talk at that age. Didn't do me any harm. And I'm sure Astrid kind of takes the whole woman/woman having a magical baby in her stride. Her best friend is a talking snowman after all.

ShadowWolfBeast: I think Olaf is going to have more questions for Anna and Elsa than Astrid ...


	9. Skadi's Craftsmen

Chapter IX

Skadi's Craftsmen

* * *

Titan is a fearsome steed. His mane glistens in the sunlight and when he paws the ground all the other horses cower in fear of his strength. One day he will ride into battle with his trusted rider, Princess Astrid Eir VII saddled to his mighty back and together they will gaze into the stricken faces of Arendelle's foes. He will be decorated in gold and purple and a great statue will be erected in the capital town square for all to see. Titan will be a legend. He can already smell the scent of victory in the air.

"C'mon!" Astrid huffed. She knocked her knees against the pony's side to try and make him move. "Momma! Titan won't budge!"

The pony's ears flattened against his skull. Anna turned from fastening the bridle around her own horse and giggled at Titan's decidedly grumpy looking expression.

"Be gentle with him, Astrid. It's his first outing outside the corral; he's probably a little nervous."

"Uncle Kristoff has the worst taste in horses," the girl bemoaned when Titan took a step and then halted.

Anna had to agree. Kristoff's expertise did not lie in horses. As a youngster he'd taken the mandatory riding lessons with some sourness, commenting on the stupidity and bullheadedness of the animals he was forced to interact with. Even so he'd turned into a good rider, able and confidant at the skill. That was all their father wanted of him and once he'd proven himself a talented rider he was freed from the engagement.

Kristoff's passion was directed more towards reindeer. As children he and Anna had come across an orphaned calf bleating for its mother in the forest that grew on the fringes of their lands. It had taken an instant liking to the prince and followed him home like a loyal lapdog. Their guarded escort had tried to shoo the animal off with no success and once home their mother and father had been too taken with the sight of the prince and his caribou nuzzling to have the heart to cast it out into the cold. The calf was hence named Sven, given a collar and a box in the stables where it lived in the lap of luxury to this day.

Anna threw a leg over her horse's back and righted herself on the saddle. "He'll probably follow Sunflower. Just hold on, okay?"

At the mention of her name Sunflower dipped her head down to peer curiously at the pony in a way that clearly said "did he shrink or … ?". Anna nudged the mare forward and was pleased to note Titan trotting after the brood, as fast as his little legs could carry him in fact. Astrid for her part merely bounced with the motions as they walked on, wearing a giddy grin that betrayed how satisfied she was that Titan had gotten the message. The princess and queen thus led their mounts carefully down the gated path that connected the castle to the mainland, the horse and pony's hoof beats clip-clocking along the cobbled stones.

The path ended at a military outpost. Two guards were on duty, leaning against the structure and talking boisterously. When they heard the approaching sounds of horses they straightened and moved to lift the barrier without looking or ceasing their conversation.

"Thank you, gentlemen!" Anna sang, hurrying Sunflower along. Astrid hastened Titan's own step and waved at the blinking guards who, upon raising their heads to see whom it was they had let pass, stood open-mouthed as they gawked at their princess and queen. It was lucky for them it wasn't Elsa needing passage. Had the queen happened upon the two men … well, Anna was almost certain their Captain of the Guard would be in need of two new recruits.

The glades unfurled from there. Great stretches of land partitioned into grazing areas and workout land for the royal stables. Unlike the Winterlands, Arendelle's stamp in the equine business was still in its infancy. There were also no aspirations to breed Clydesdales. Elsa had a ménage of dressage champions and continuously added to their breeding stock. Anna had bought a few Thoroughbred brood mares that had produced some winners in Punchestown. Nothing too grandiose but it was an admirable start to a legacy she hoped would sustain in their family for a few generations, at least.

Anna threw a sidelong glance at her daughter. Little Astrid was riding wonderfully, looking absolutely thrilled to be atop Titan (as obstinate as he might be). From what Anna could see, their burgeoning legacy was safe.

"Momma?" Astrid piped up twenty minutes or so into their walk. "Did you find Mom in the end? You know, from the story?"

"We found someone before we found your mother," Anna laughed, recalling the incident. "Scared us half to death, too!"

* * *

Anna grimaces as her right boot sinks into the snow on the next step. They've reached some sort of clearing now, just on the edge of the forest. Trees here stand in icy stillness, save for the beautiful otherworldly garlands that drape across their branches and move with the frigid breeze. The princess had been so taken by the sight she'd neglected to watch where her feet were threading and sunk into a particularly treacherous piece of trail. Now her boot is quite unwilling to dislodge itself no matter how hard she pulls and tugs to get free.

Kristoff stops at once and shakes his head in embarrassment of the scene unfolding before his eyes. His little sister is hunkering down and trying to set herself free with what he can only describe as a truly constipated expression - her cheeks are red and her nose scrunches with the effort.

He sighs in resignation to his fate, walks over and grabs his sister under the armpits just as she begins to protest his invasion of her personal space. In a move that looks practiced, Kristoff lifts the princess into the air effectively freeing her. He deposits her back onto firmer ground with a condescending pat on the head.

"I could have done it on my own," Anna whines at the prince as she fishes into the snow for her lost boot.

"Sure, Feisty-pants," he drawls with a smirk.

Anna harrumphs indignantly and shoves her boot back on. She follows Kristoff through the trees with a pout, resisting the urge to stomp her foot lest that one becomes stuck, too. "Are we nearly there yet?"

"I think so. Hey, does that rock look familiar to you?"

"What?"

Kristoff arches an eyebrow and points a gloved hand a mossy looking boulder sitting next to a tree. It's strangely devoid of freshly fallen snow like the rest of the landscape. Anna can't say she's seen it before though. She shrugs at her brother to show her perplexity on the issue.

"I think I've seen that rock like … half an hour ago," Kristoff stage-whispers, eyeing the boulder suspiciously. The boulder predictably doesn't take offence.

"I think the thinning air is messing with your brain, big brother. That means we must be getting close to the top of the mountain!"

Kristoff scratches the side of his head. "You're probably right. I'm being stupid. Let's keep moving."

The siblings continue their trek in silence. Neither of them notices the boulder unroll to reveal a small troll. Grey with a large bulging nose, stubby chin, great big ears and a mossy overcoat. The troll laughs into a palm at the prince and princess before rolling back into a ball and tumbling after them both.

Kristoff halts. Anna at his heels, having received no warning to his abrupt standstill, knocks into his back with an audible _oof_. "Did you hear that?" He clamps a hand over her mouth when Anna tries to retort on how absurd he is being. His eyes glance about frantically. "That sound …"

"I don't hear anything," a voice pipes up.

The siblings freeze.

"Please tell me it was you that just said that," Kristoff says nervously, his hand still clamped over his sister's mouth. The latter shakes her head anxiously.

"Down here," the voice says again.

Kristoff and Anna obey and both shriek in terror at what they find.

"TROOOOOOOLL!" Anna cries. She rips away from her brother and, as lithe as a cat, springs up onto his shoulders. She hangs there awkwardly, albeit in general safety from the mythical creature peering up at her in barely concealed amusement.

Kristoff teeters at the sudden weight of his sister, throwing his arms out to steady them lest they topple over. He rights himself at last and edges away from the troll. "Look, we're just trying to get up the mountain and we're sorry for trespassing or whatever – just please don't eat us!"

The troll's face pinches in clear revulsion. His large fat nose wrinkles with the pull of his rocky features. "I'm a vegetarian … and just here to help."

"Help us," Anna shrieks hysterically. "YOU'RE A _TROLL_!"

"Yes," the troll replies with an eye roll, "I am well aware of that." His large feet shuffle inelegantly in the snow as he glares up at them, nonplussed. "Wait? Do I have the right people? Hold on a sec-" He holds up a plump grey finger and with the other hand rummages into his fraying shorts, only to pull out a small piece of parchment. "I'm looking for one Anna of the House of the Winterlands and one Kristoff of the House of the Winterlands."

"Well, that's creepy," the prince mutters to his sister. He sets her down on her feet, easing the tension in his aching back. Anna for her part, having regained some wits about her, takes a hesitant step towards the troll still perusing his parchment and muttering inaudibly to himself.

She begins hesitantly. "Mr. Troll—"

"Cliff," the creature says. He folds the parchment and tucks it away. "Mr. Troll was my father. Call me Cliff."

The oddity of the statement only momentarily gives her pause. "Ooookay, _Cliff_." She glances quickly to her brother. He looks as lost as she feels. "Um, you said you were here to help us?"

"Looks like it, Princess."

"So you know that Elsa started this winter?"

"Know about it?" Cliff holds his large rocky stomach and chuckles. It jiggles in his mirth. "Princess let me tell you something – we've known about Elsa before your kingdom even began."

"That's like hundreds of years ago!" Kristoff exclaims, hands thrown out for emphasis.

"Exaaaaaaaaactly!" Cliff sings. No really, sings. Anna feels the inane desire to clap. So she does. Kristoff stares at her. Cliff takes a well-deserved bow.

"Thank you, thank you, you're too kind. The family and I really got into show-choir lately. But I digress. Listen, we know that you know about the prophecy. Heck, we've got a prophecy for you guys too! Well not really a prophecy, more of like a small appendix at the bottom of Elsa's prophecy."

"You're the ones that wrote the prophecy?" Anna asks in a breathy rush.

"Well, not me personally," Cliff defends. "Our Grand Pabbie was given the prophecy from Skadi herself. She and her white wolves had our clan etch the prophecy into a physical entity so that she could deliver it to the human King Leopold of Arendelle. Apparently he and Skadi had a run in or something of that effect."

"Wolves ... Like on the door!" Kristoff says to Anna. "Anna, the door had two wolves beside the first king!"

"That's the one," Cliff agrees. "The Dire wolves needed us to write the words down before they could take it to the king, Elsa's ancestor. Think of us as her craftsmen."

"The tapestry," Anna breathes out in sudden realization. "You guys made the tapestry! The wolves must have taken it to the king!"

"That was one coronation gift that did _not_ go down well."

"That's great craftsmanship," Kristoff says sounding impressed. Anna tries not to roll her eyes. Now is not the time.

"Thanks."

"Guys!" Anna grumps, "Let's get back to what's really important here! Cliff, who sent you to help us?"

"Grand Pabbie of course." Cliff points up at the top of the mountain. The storm clouds have dispelled since yesterday leaving only a bright clear sky. "I'm supposed to take you up there. His orders. You've got the sword?"

Kristoff taps the pommel of the sword in favour of answering.

"Alright then, we're on a roll. If you would now kindly follow me."

For some reason, Anna and Kristoff do. Partly in fear that if they refuse Cliff will eat them. Also because the potential to get lost so high up in the mountains has risen dramatically along the course of their little adventure. And so they follow the little troll in blind faith up treacherous paths. Higher and higher they climb. Kristoff occasionally tries to strike a conversation but Cliff is adamant that he cannot tell them more than he already has. So, they remain silent. And thus Anna's thoughts deviate from the task at hand.

She wonders what Elsa is doing right now. Is she as scared as Anna is, trudging through the cold to get to safety? Does she realize there is a secret warrant for her head? Or perhaps she simply doesn't care. Maybe Elsa is currently relishing in the outpour of her powers – like a champagne bottle that has been shaken thoroughly and the cork popped off.

What must if have been like, Anna ponders as she clutches her fur cloak tighter around her body, to have grown up with ice powers? Lonely, if Elsa's reaction is anything to go by. The queen must have never been able to breathe a word of it to anyone, lest she spur a similar reaction to that of Kristoff's.

Witch. That was what he had called her. The word had frightened the girl into fleeing, that much Anna has gathered.

"She was so scared," Anna whispers to herself, recalling the way Elsa's body had curled in on itself in shame and terror of what she had done. "She only wanted to help …"

"Did you say something?" Kristoff asks. He's stopped walking. Cliff a few paces ahead has too, and turned to regard them both. Anna shakes her head in reply, unwilling to share her thoughts to the instigator of this whole mess (you can't just call people witches, Kristoff) and a fabled creature whom she's certain has already come to the conclusion that she is a moron.

"Does she talk to herself often?" Cliff asks her brother gravely.

Kristoff responds with an empathic, "No, not really. She talks to paintings though." His brows furrow. "Should we be worried about that?"

"Hey!" Anna cries out indignantly. "That was one time!" More like a habitual occurrence. "And it's not like I have conversation with them or anything –" She does, extensive ones.

"Joan would beg to differ," Kristoff chuckles whilst throwing her a smug grin. The urge to introduce her fist to his abdomen is a strong one. He's referring to the portrait of Joan of Arc Anna has come to fervently admire in their father's study.

They don't notice Cliff glance about or his eyes narrow at a particular spot beyond the rocky cliff face they've stopped under. He toddles away from the bickering pair and inspects the fine ornate ice stairs hidden behind the rocks. Only one person could have crafted this. He cups a hand around his mouth and calls out, "I've found the way up!"

Anna ceases the impromptu wrestling match with Kristoff and surges to her feet, galloping through the snow to reach the troll. Kristoff mutters obscenities under his breath as he thumps the creases off of his coat and vest. He joins Cliff and Anna at the base of the ice stairs in grumpy slumps through the slush but whistles his awe when he has reached them, eyes widening considerably.

"Wow." His hands rub along the railings and test its sturdiness. "Elsa made this?"

"Looks like," Cliff replies, uninterested. "C'mon, the sooner we get up there the faster we can slay this queen and put this whole mess behind us."

The ice stairs lead them to the top of the North Mountain. There, proof of Elsa's presence is widespread. Large spikes of ice protruding from the rock of the mountain itself gleam in the sunlight and cast a myriad of colours against the snowy backdrop. Then, the most beautiful castle either of the Winterland siblings has ever seen is revealed.

It stands proudly at the centrepiece of the North Mountain. With towering spirals made of ice and crystal turrets and battlements. The wide double doors are ornately designed with Arendelle's crest and larger than life snowflakes. It is smaller than Elsa's regular castle in width but more than makes up in sheer length and beauty. The entire structure is then joined to their side of the mountain by another set of finely made stairs with Anna, Kristoff and their odd guide standing at its base.

"Looks like someone's been busy," Anna says when neither Cliff nor Kristoff will stop their gawking to verbally acknowledge the grandiose architectural accomplishment before them.

"It's so beautiful." Is Kristoff _crying_? He sniffles confirming Anna's suspicions. "I want to have magical ice powers."

"Well aren't you a hypocrite," Anna grounds out. Then, "Enough dilly-dallying! Let's go bring back summer!"

Anna's triumphant charge up the stairs is effectively ruined as she trips over her own wayward boot and smacks face first onto the icy floor. "It's slippery," she says awkwardly, shuffling to her feet and rubbing at her bruised nose. She makes sure to grab the handrails on her second attempt, choosing not to look back at Kristoff and Cliff laughing at her. She can already feel the blush rising in her cheeks at her loss of face.

The doors to Elsa's ice palace are more magnificently sculpted than the ones that house the Circular Room in Arendelle. Yet, all Anna can think of as she waits for Cliff and Kristoff to join her at the steps is the terrible burden both sets of doors harbour inside. In Arendelle castle, it is the prophecy and the pain of countless generations that have feared this day. In Elsa's ice palace, it is Elsa herself.

"Should we … knock?" Kristoff asks uneasily.

"Would be rude not to," Cliff answers back with a minute shrug.

Anna throws him a look. "Like killing a queen isn't rude?"

The troll rolls his eyes frustratingly and makes a shooing motion with his hands. "Just knock already, Princess."

Anna huffs. Kristoff smiles at her tightly to show his support with one hand coming to rest atop the sword. The action makes her take in a deep breath before knocking hesitantly against the frozen doors. At the uncertain rasp of knuckles against ice, the doors swing open of their own accord. Kristoff, Anna and Cliff all peer inside the revealed entrance curiously, eyes roaming from the ice fountain, to the grand staircase and then to the chandelier – trying to catch a glimpse of the runaway queen.

Anna leads them inside first, spinning in place to take in the sheer beauty and magnitude of what is around her. She can't believe Elsa was able to make all of this. It looks ethereal and the sudden urge to cry overwhelms her. She can sympathise with Kristoff now – who is poking at the fountain with an incredulous expression – it's hard _not_ to cry at such majesty. And it is. It's majestic.

"Anna?"

The soft feminine voice makes Anna swivel in place and look up to the balcony with eyes widening with unbridled wonder. A woman stands wearing a shimmering icy gown that looks spun from starlight, covering soft mouth-watering hips with a tantalizing slit at her thigh. Then Anna experiences cardiac arrest – or what feels very much like it. Her heart stops, titters, and then begins to thrum deep and strong in her chest until it feels like it's going to burst out in a bid to meet its new owner.

She makes a half dizzy attempt to take a step closer, the world honing on one person and one person only.

"Elsa," she breathes.

* * *

A/N: Another Monday, another chapter.

Firstly, thank you for all the lovely birthday wishes and messages you've left in your reviews or messaged on my tumblr. Secondly, I'm so glad I was able to get this up for you. My schedule this week was a little tight with work but I managed (somehow, don't ask me how). Updates will still be every Monday unless I've mentioned otherwise.

Also, HIMYM-Frozen has gone bilingual! It's being translated into Korean which I'm really excited about. Apparently the translation from English to Korean has been seamlessly done (or so a little birdie told me) You can find the url on my profile.

And again, thank you to anyone who has read, reviewed, favourited or followed this story.

Review Responses:

juancarlos-valdezmedina: Thank you for the birthday wishes. I hope you've enjoyed this latest chapter.

Clare Cooper: I think it would have been interesting to see an evil Elsa redeem herself, certainly. Although the direction Frozen took in the end was so deliciously complex and new from their usual black and white, evil vs good story lines. I have no complaints. Yes, when I heard the prophecy in the rough-cut soundtrack it completely built around the draft of this story and gave it more depth.

FanOfAction: You didn't have to wait long for Anna to find Elsa!

Guest: Adorable you say? Aaw, thank you. I was going for awkwardly sexy and aloof but adorable will certainly do.

xRoseThorn: Oaken is single handedly the greatest minor character in Disney history. He literally says a handful of lines and has already become a meme; respect. We'll learn more about the trolls in later chapters (here's a brief glimpse - and yes, they'll be singing) and Olaf too. It's Sunday for you, too? Are you from around my neck of the woods then?

polarhamster10: I'm very glad. I try to aim for a balance in the chapters (between the characters, romance, character thoughts and so on) so it means a lot that someone would praise my attempts. Yeah, I may have clapped at Hans being punched in the face, too. Thank you very much, it's weird being old.

Guest: Thank you!

FaythHymns: I did have a lovely day, thank you! I'm with you there. I'm terrible during phone-calls too. Probably because people become assholes when you can't see their faces and hence you don't have the opportunity to punch them for being inappropriate. That's why I much prefer face-to-face interactions. Everyone's on their best behaviour.

Baku babe: Short, sweet and frequent are my speciality, lol. I also saw your lovely review on tumblr after I had birthday cake. It was basically like a last minute birthday present. Thank you for that. I hope you enjoyed this chapter too.

Guest: Elsa's father went a little mad after being struck by the ice. It clouded his judgement. He didn't die, but his mind was deeply fractured. In fact, he became incredibly volatile with Elsa. One moment he could be gentle and sweet and the next quite temperamental. I think it's sort of the fandom headcanon that Oaken is gay (in fact, the writers of Frozen alluded to the fact that he was without explicitly stating anything - clever clogs) I just sort of rolled with it.

KM: Thank you very much. One reader mentioned that they were interpreting the prophecy wrong all this time so ... wink wink nod nod.

Water Queen 23: Just letting you know that you're incredibly cool and that I totally agree that grown up shit should be put aside - indefinitely. Also thank you for the happy birthday.

ShadowWolfBeast: Sneaky anal jokes are the best kind of anal jokes. Yes, exactly! You're the only person so far who understood that about her father.

shan-shanon: Thank you very much! I know I'm not a very refined writer and my style is fairly simple but it's always a pleasure to hear that people enjoy reading what I have to offer, regardless.

Lauren H 91: Thank you. Although I was grumpy about being old I had a good day. The brother took me out for lunch and he even held my shopping bags while I bought shoes (evil laughter). Next chapter should be next Monday, as planned. Some angst. Be prepared.


	10. A Queen's Duty, A Mother's Burden

Chapter X

A Queen's Duty, A Mother's Burden

* * *

The following evening at dinner Astrid was strangely pensive. She ladled her soup silently and let the contents drip back into her bowl in a mindless gesture. A fist tucked under her chin and an elbow propped up on the table completed her bleak demeanour. Such overlook in propriety was so unlike her that Anna and Elsa shared concerned furtive glances across the table. Anna's eyes said "Do something!" whilst Elsa's responded with "This is not my field of expertise – _you_ talk to her!"

Their minds were made up for them when Astrid let out a heavy despondent sigh. If even at all possible the child seemed to sag even more morosely into her seat. It looked like all the cheer and joy had been sucked right out of her bones. Her eyes were darker than usual – nothing like their usual cornflower.

"Astrid … is everything alright?" Elsa began hesitantly, throwing her wife a careful sidelong glance. Anna nodded at her supportively and made a motion with her hands to keep going. "I've noticed you haven't touched your soup."

"Not hungry," the girl grumped back. The tone was so abrupt, so petulant even, that it threw the queen for a loop.

Elsa blinked. Her jaw slackened slightly as she stared at Astrid frowning down at the tablecloth. "I … see?" the words sounded more questioning than she would have liked. Anna rolled her eyes in faint frustration at Elsa's inability to parent under pressure.

"Astrid Eir, is that any way to speak to your mother?" Anna asked her tersely, eyes narrowing on the child whose features hardened in a glare. She did not look up at them. "Well?" Anna quirked an eyebrow. "Are you going to answer me, young lady?"

"Leave me alone!" Astrid cried suddenly in a wild fit of passion. She slapped her hands against the table to hammer her point home and then launched herself out of her chair, her hair now free from its ponytail and swinging.

Elsa jumped to her feet – her own chair made a painful screech against the marble floor – and made to follow the child out of the room. To scold her? To comfort her? Elsa wasn't sure, all she knew was that Astrid was acting painfully out of character and she wanted to remedy whatever it was that was suddenly ailing the child. She was halted in her ambition by Anna's hand catching her wrist and tugging her back down. A server had taken initiative and righted the queen's chair, pushing it in for her as she sat numbly with her eyes trained on the far door from which Astrid had made her escape.

"That was certainly odd," Elsa breathed out as she turned to her wife.

Anna rolled her eyes. "She's prone to dramatics."

"From your side of the family, surely."

The Queen Consort chortled and poked a finger against Elsa's chest. "Who was it that caused a small storm during my nineteenth birthday celebrations because some prince or other had the gall to ask me to dance?"

Elsa darkened at the memory and wrinkled her nose as though she'd caught the stench of something vile on the air. She remembered that particular prince well; Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. The man had hovered around Anna, much like he had during the coronation ball, with annoying persistence despite the public postulation that Princess Anna had already been spoken for.

"It was public knowledge that we were courting at the time," she said blandly trying to keep her tone level. Any signs of emotion on her part would send Anna into a fit of self-satisfied taunting.

"Yet I distinctly remember you dancing with the Count of Elvedere …" Anna smirked as Elsa's face fell in remembrance. She had only accepted to be polite … "Ah, my Queen," her wife purred, "Do you admit defeat?"

Elsa smiled and kissed her wife long and slow, pulling away only to murmur, "I admit a stalemate."

"A stalemate?" Anna's voice was not as strong or level as she would have liked – still partially dazed from the kiss.

"Why yes," the queen nodded, trying in vain to supress a grin. "Who was it, my dearest heart, who stuck a leg out so that the Count of Elvedere would be sent toppling to the ground, injure himself, and be unable to finish the dance with the Queen of Arendelle? Only then for the Princess of the Winterlands to volunteer quite readily?"

"I'm sure I have no idea of what you are referring to," Anna replied with a mischievous grin. It made her freckled cheeks pull deliciously upwards and her eyes glimmer. Elsa ached to kiss her again. So she did.

"I'll go see what's wrong with our daughter," Anna muttered softly between tender pecks.

Elsa made a small noise in the back of her throat and pulled away slowly, eyes still half-lidded and wanting. "Of course." She shook herself out of her stupor and beckoned a server to clear the table. "It must be of some importance if Astrid is acting out like this."

Anna rose to her feet and laid one last kiss against the apple of Elsa's cheek. The queen closed her eyes contentedly at the action and took hold of this morning's paper. "We'll certainly see," the Queen Consort hummed as she waltzed out of the room.

She found Astrid in the portrait room. The girl was huddled in front of a painting of Queen Agathe I of Arendelle: arguably the most controversial queen to have ever graced this land. Or so Elsa had told her. Her wife had always been unquestionably proud of her legacy and took great pleasure in recounting her descendant's lives. The queen observed each branch of her family tree with the utmost respect, inclining her head towards their portraits in recognition of their lives and deeds when she passed by the portrait room. Anna supposed Elsa felt a burning need to elevate herself beyond what her ancestors had believed she would become – a monster. She wanted their approval, dead as they might be, and worked tirelessly every day in their memory and aspirations for a prosperous Arendelle.

Agathe was one such ancestor of Elsa's that Anna was particularly fond of. She was the reason that she and Elsa - and many other people - were now free to marry whom they wished. Astrid was also very fond of her, and sat staring up at her with her knees drawn close to her chest, lean chin resting gently atop her stocking clad kneecaps. Her eyes roamed across the beautiful face, the high cheekbones, and the sash of green and purple with Arendelle's crocus.

"Princess Astrid." The lofty address filled up the room and made Astrid start and spin in place, fearing that Gerda or some other nursemaid had heard of her rebellion at dinner. Anna smiled softly at her then and came closer, sitting at Astrid's side. She turned her gaze on the painting. "Are you going to tell me what happened at dinner?"

The child burrowed into her folded arms and grunted out a "No." It was eerily familiar of Elsa just a few days prior – head pressed into the wood of the breakfast table frightening all the servers with her cavewoman responses. Sometimes the likeness was uncanny.

"Well, you know I'm going to have to punish you for the way your spoke to Mom," Anna said evenly. "A lesser woman would have bent you across their knee."

She hiked an eyebrow down at the girl and reviewed her reaction to the words. Anna had never raised a hand towards Astrid with the intent to harm – nor had Elsa. Of course, as children both she and Kristoff had experienced their fair share of corporal punishments. They were prone to dangerous shenanigans and outbursts in front of polite company that were unbefitting of princes and princesses. That had been enough to merit thorough spankings from their father.

Additionally, Elsa had told her in confidence - when Anna had been sleepy, heavy with child and groaning about her lack of experience in parenting - that she had only been struck once in her entire childhood; a punishment merited after she'd purposefully lost her parents in the crowded marketplace in Corona to partake in the festivities for her cousin's birthday. Her father had delivered it once they were all safely in the Corona castle, swiftly and abruptly, but the deed had caused him to become quite ill with the guilt and Elsa had never been hit again. Anna and Elsa had thus both agreed that hands were not meant to scare or frighten (Elsa's voice had wavered with tears at the decree, hands fisting in the bedclothes).

Astrid's rigid frame tensed at the threat but her eyes kept unyieldingly to Agathe's unseeing ones.

"Maybe an entire week of no riding will do you some good? Oooh, or perhaps no dessert?" Astrid frowned then, thinking of the chef's delicious chocolate fondants which apparently she would no longer be privy to. Anna saw this and internally punched the air in victory. "Yes. I think no dessert for a week."

"I'm sorry," the girl finally ground out.

"That's more like it!" Anna wound an arm around Astrid's tense waist and pulled the blonde child into her warm embrace. Astrid folded immediately into her mother's arms, grasping onto her collar for leverage. Anna kissed the crown of Astrid's head. "Tell me what's wrong, sweetheart? I can't help you if you don't tell me."

Astrid seemed to internally debate this for herself. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and unclasped her grip around her mother's collar to wring her hands fretfully together. "I had a nightmare," she said in a small voice.

"Of what?" Anna prodded gently. She ran her fingers carefully through Astrid's bangs.

"The story," Astrid whispered, eyes filling with tears. She looked at her mother, lost. "You killed Mom in my dream. With the sword from your story."

"Oh."

Anna startled and then her shoulders sagged in understanding. It was the foal incident all over again. Elsa had been right. They should have waited until the girl was a little more mature, able to discern fact from fiction.

"I know you didn't," Astrid hurried to add, noticing the strange expression on her mother's face. "It was just a silly nightmare. I got upset at you for no reason. Sorry, Momma."

"It's quite alright, Astrid," Anna replied a little sadly. "Maybe we should stop the story for now …"

"No!" Astrid cried out. "No, Momma! I like listening to the story and Mom …" she grew shy under Anna's gaze, wilting as she admitted, "Mom's spending even more time with me now." Astrid's head bent; chin resting on her chest and looking very small indeed. Anna's heart trembled with pain for her daughter.

"Astrid …" Anna choked out and seized the girl into a ferocious embrace.

It was true that Elsa had been a distant parent – not unkind or unloving – but distant all the same. Anna had contributed it to her tense upbringing. Elsa had not been accustomed to love and attention given freely and without constraint as Anna had. And her powers had added to the layer of worries on Elsa's mind.

It was hard for Elsa to shed her upbringing and fears but she'd made valiant, if sometimes fumbling attempts to participate in their daughter's life. Still, Astrid always quaked with excitement when Elsa took the time to speak to her or allowed the princess to sit upon her knee in the evenings they spent lounging in the parlour room. Like she was starved for love.

"Mom loves you very, _very_ much," Anna said fiercely, "She was never prouder than when you came into the world. She wants nothing more than to be close to you, Astrid."

"Then why is she always so busy?" the girl hiccupped, dissolving at last into long overdue tears. She twined two wiry arms around her mother's neck and squeezed to the point of pain. Anna simply hugged her to her bosom as intensily as she dared.

Anna hushed her gently, rocking the little girl on the floor of the portrait room. Astrid's cries bounced and echoed against the canvases. Past royalty held their silent vigil in the dark room, watching over their small descendant with painted eyes that – and maybe it was a trick of the light – seemed to look down upon Astrid sympathetically.

"Being Queen of Arendelle is a very big job. It takes up a lot of time. Like yesterday after the picnic – she had to meet with some of her advisors for an emergency meeting. She didn't want to go, but she had to. It doesn't mean she doesn't want to spend time with you, Astrid. Mom's just very busy. And you know she gets nervous about her powers around you sometimes. She's better now though, isn't she?"

Astrid nodded against the soft and now wet skin of her mother's neck. Mom was a lot better at holding her hand, cuddling close when she was sick, tickling her when she refused to go to sleep. All these had taken time, though. Like planting a seed and waiting for it to sprout into a beautiful flower.

"Can … can Mom tell me the rest of the story? I want … " Astrid swallowed thickly and then fell silent. She didn't quite know how to finish that. What _did_ she want? More time? To know what had mutilated her mother so completely that the queen now feared being too close to her?

Anna seemed to understand whatever it was Astrid couldn't articulate. She nodded against her daughter's blonde hair, nuzzling into the motion. "Yes," she said softly, "Of course."

* * *

"You should have seen how upset she was, Elsa," Anna said to Elsa as the queen settled down beside her in bed later that night. "She really misses you."

The other woman sighed a little, adjusting her pillow and squeezing Anna's covered knee with her free hand. "I know."

The sky was awake outside their window. Lights curled and twisted above Arendelle like they had been prone to do for centuries. It was strangely comforting. Their presence had always soothed Anna during sleepless nights caring for a colic ridden baby or fretful wife.

"That's it? That's all you're going to reply? _I know_?" Anna crossed her arms over her duvet covered chest, angling her head just so in a bid to see what was brewing under the queen's meticulously arranged mask of emptiness.

Elsa had this infuriating talent for covering up every emotion. A coping mechanism she'd taught herself after years of listening to her father rant and rave compulsively about her powers and duty to their country. In these instances Elsa could make herself as thick and clear as ice – completely impenetrable.

"What do you want me to tell you, Anna?" Elsa flopped against her pillow and crossed her arms over her chest just as Anna was doing. "I know all of that. I miss her too. And I'm trying to make it better."

She was. Anna had to admit that Elsa was making valiant efforts to be more approachable.

"I'm gonna make a royal decree," said Anna after a long pause.

Elsa smiled as she settled down more comfortably into the mattress, stretching out and hiding a yawn behind a hand. "Are you now?"

"Totally. I decree that from this day forth, Queen Elsa Sigrún the first will spend more time with Princess Astrid Eir the second or face the wrath of Queen Anna!"

"The only," Elsa added with a smirk. Then, "Of course, Your Majesty." She inclined her head submissively and tugged Anna over her body. The Queen Consort went willingly, settling down across Elsa's body like she did most every night.

"You're being annoyingly subservient this evening," Anna pointed out, speaking against the soft skin of Elsa's neck.

"Because I'm agreeing with you?"

"Yesssss," Anna whined. She half-heartedly thumped a loose fist against Elsa's chest. Elsa caught it and laced their fingers. "This is usually the point where you clam up and hide in your shell like some anxiety ridden snail."

"An anxiety ridden snail," Elsa echoed slowly, somewhat blankly too. She tipped her head back, contemplating. "Sounds about right."

"So, will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Spend more time with her?" Anna laid their joined hands to rest against Elsa's collarbone, feeling the heartbeat under their unified fingertips.

"I will try my very best, Anna."

Anna conceded that it was the best she was going to get out of the queen for the time being. Elsa was indeed trying. She could testify the fact in any court of law within the the length and breadth of Arendelle's boundaries. True, it had taken some cajoling from both she, Gerda, Kai and some more wheedling from her brother through carefully penned letters to get to this point, but Anna was grateful for the change nonetheless.

There had been a point, three or four years ago, where Elsa would not even touch her child. It had broken Anna's heart in two. She'd tried to pawn off the baby on the unsuspecting sovereign a hundred times in a desperate bid to have Elsa bond with Astrid, to no avail. The final straw came when Astrid mistakenly called Gerda her mother, having heard Anna mention a mommy on occasion. Anna had been livid. Not at Astrid, but at Elsa. Her absence had been so noticeable that their daughter had resorted to staking claim on their Head of Staff. The resulting row had made Elsa worry incessantly over a possible divorce.

Under this unspoken ultimatum Elsa had swallowed her fear and let the two year old perch on her knee and paw at her maps with grubby palms. The following evening she'd tucked Astrid into bed as Gerda stood obediently at the doorway, watching the queen with a fond smile as she fussed over the amount of blankets on the bed. "Gerda, are you sure that's enough? Should we get more?". After that, she and Astrid began to spend long hours in the gardens on Sunday afternoons reading fairy tales and learning about the birds that took to nesting in the birdhouses their Head Gardner was so fond of.

Now, she and Astrid were so much closer. Elsa lathered the little girl with as much attention as was possible for her to give, considering her heavy workload and overwrought rearing. She tucked Astrid in, played the princess for her made-up games, taught her how to play chess in their private drawing rooms, and habitually stopped by the corral to watch her riding lessons. The progress had amply mollified Anna and brought the family closer together.

Although … Anna could still see the ghost of that haunting terror in Elsa's eyes when Astrid pressed close. Could see how her hands sometimes shook before placing themselves, as gentle as butterfly wings, atop Astrid's blonde head. Could see the expectations of generations of Arendelle royalty weighing down on Elsa's thin shoulders.

"She wants you to tell her the rest of the story, Elsa," Anna whispered, curbed now by the thoughts swirling in her head of Elsa's duty to her direct family and her ancestral line.

Elsa made a soft sound from beneath Anna's warm body. It sounded like an affirmation if there ever was one.

* * *

A/N: I'm exhausted so I'll keep this short. Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited this story.

Review Responses:

FanOfAction: Stay tuned for the next chapter - we'll get to see past Anna and Elsa finally talk.

ShadowWolfBeast: Sometime's the littlest things are the most hard headed. Kristoff was supposed to be this big jerk but he morphed into this very odd mix of arrogant frat boy and comedian. You like my humour? You're probably the first person to think so!

xRoseThorn: Titan wasn't supposed to ever exist but I honestly couldn't help myself. Oh so I'm a Sunday author ... that's still cool.

juancarlos-valdezmedina: Olaf will make an appearance but it's the trolls that will move the story onwards for us.

Claire Cooper: Is it weird for me to agree? Like, I've been reading Swan Queen fanfiction and I'm actually in awe of the transformation Regina Mills takes in every single one to redeem herself. I'm hooked. Cliff is eager because he thinks it's the only way to bring peace back to Arendelle and Grand Pabbie has given him the task of carrying that out. You don't mess with The Big Rock.

Tripower: That's a great compliment to get and thank you for the late birthday wishes!

Guest: He's such a bloody hypocrite. I love him.

Yasetsu: Olaf has a completely different role in HIMYM-Frozen. He's not a guide. He's more like a reassurance. We'll see why soon. Thanks for the cookie. It was delicious.

Yuiiub: More Anna/Elsa get-together-plot in the next chapter.

Lauren H 91: He's okay when he wants to be. The trolls were such an odd and random addition to Frozen. If they were somehow more entwined with Elsa's powers than ... okay. But like otherwise? I love that line, too. It's very personal.

bludragon: Thanks for giving the original a look! I'm very happy that Korean fans get to be a part of this story.

polarhamster10: Thank you very much for the compliment. The fans make this a pleasure to continue.

Baku babe: I always enjoy your reviews. That scene where Elsa is running her hands through her hair is the part where I turned to my friend in the theatre and said "I am so attracted to an animated character right now." And she hit me with her bag. Damn. I probably should have included that ...

KM: Cliff is the guy that got saddled with the babysitting job. We'll meet the other trolls soon. And you are really close with that runaway snowball theory oh my god. 


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